


The Quest for Snufkin's Memories: A Tale of a Moomin's Loyalty

by DigitalThespian



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Amnesia, Fae are the worst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Memory Loss, Moomin is stronk, Moomins are Predators, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Polyamory, Snufkin is a little shit, Snufkin is a soft boi, Snusmumriken | Snufkin is a Cat, Supernatural - Freeform, Threats of Violence, Weirdness, a forest of pine, no tail this time sorry folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2020-04-11 23:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19119940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigitalThespian/pseuds/DigitalThespian
Summary: Snufkin wakes in the forest, wounded, with no recollection of why.To make matters worse, this Moomin fellow seems to be quite sure they know each other.Snufkin would think he'd remember meeting such a marvelous creature...Right?





	1. A Dear Friend Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> I may have (read: almost certainly) missed some tags on this one; let me know if you notice any!
> 
> Additionally, Moomins in my fics look like this lovely artwork here!  
> https://official-spec.tumblr.com/post/184512973946/creacher-rights-babey  
> Snufkin, however, looks like _this_ lovely artwork!  
> https://jorratedlegs.tumblr.com/post/184676640911/so-if-snufkin-grows-fur-on-his-face-as-he-grows  
> (Tried to ask the artist but couldn't)
> 
> EDIT: So those links are gone now, I'll see if I can figure something out at some point. Also there are some relationship tags missing, because they're only in the last chapter.

Snufkin found himself lying on the ground, with the sun shining in his eyes. It hung lazily just above the horizon, casting long fingers of shadow across the forest floor. Strange.. wasn't it just past noon mere moments ago? And why was he wet? More importantly, where was his pack, and why was he napping in the forest without it?

It was at this moment that an overwhelming wave of agony washed over him, and he very nearly lost consciousness again. He closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head, trying to take small, even breaths to stay calm. He opened his eyes to take stock of the situation, and quickly realized that the wetness along his back and side was blood. It appeared to be his, if the ragged parallel tears on the back of his tunic were any indication. Fortunately, it seemed to be a surface level wound; so while it _was_ painful, he would live.

 _Un_ fortunately, when he tried to stand, his left leg would not support his weight. A quick inspection revealed that his thigh was a disconcerting color; a blotchy mauve that promised nothing good. Either he was poisoned, or his leg was broken. Given the rest of his injuries, Snufkin felt it safe to assume the latter. How was he going to get to.. where he was going? Walking would be difficult in this state..

Snufkin decided his first order of business was to try to find someone who could potentially help him recover faster. He pulled himself along the ground to a place where he could reach several fallen branches, and set about making a splint to keep his leg still. He reached for the knife in his boot, and—

It was missing. He looked around quickly, his mood quickly souring even further. What _happened_?

He shook his head and tore a few strips off the bottom of his tunic; he was going to have to replace it anyway. He finished tying the splint, and found a sturdy stick to use as a crutch. He took stock of his surroundings, noting that the undergrowth had been devastated by some large creature, perhaps a bear. That was likely what happened to him as well, although there was no way to know for sure.

Thankfully his pack seemed to be unharmed, albeit some distance away. He retrieved it, quickly digging out his canteen and something to eat. He needed the energy for his trip back to.. Wherever it was he was looking for help. He shook his head to try and shake off the lingering haze in his mind, then set off down the path in what he believed to be the direction of the nearest settlement. After an hour or so, a wide, idyllic valley came into view, with a tall blue building being the largest by far. "Finally, some good news. Maybe the people here can help me." Snufkin spoke quietly to himself, trying to assure himself that things would turn out well in the end.

He made his way down into the valley, noting the river, and the forest, and could he hear the sea in the distance? This was quite the valley; after he recovered it might be worth exploring it for a while. After all, there was always something new to see here in—

Snufkin stopped suddenly, nearly toppling over. Something wasn't right. He had never been to this valley before, he was sure he would remember a place as beautiful and distinct as this. So why..

Why did it feel so familiar?

He was startled from his dilemma by a voice calling his name. "Snufkin! Snufkin, you're back!"

Back? Snufkin looked around and spotted a somewhat shaggy, white furred creature running across the valley from the blue building—house?—waving all the while. He was a peculiar creature, built almost like Snufkin himself, but with a much longer, rounded snout, and his ears were on the top of his head, not the side. The creature also appeared to be unaccustomed to running such long distances, as he had stopped a moment to catch his breath before continuing his mad dash to where Snufkin currently stood.

Snufkin looked on in confusion as the creature skidded to a halt in front of him, paws on his knees, before looking up with a wide grin on his face, showing a mouth alarmingly full of teeth, sharp enough to tear him apart—

Snufkin took an involuntary step backwards, then furrowed his brow. Why did that bother him? He saw beasts with sharp teeth all the time. He regained his composure after but a moment, but the creature's expression quickly turned to one of alarm.

"Snufkin, you're injured! What happened? Let's get you to Moominhouse—" The creature began to fuss, a clear panic overtaking his features. Snufkin cut him off.

"How do you know my name?" The creature went still as the grave, the panicked expression turning to one of mounting horror.

"Snufkin, it's.. It's me, Moomintroll!" The creature huffed, then crossed his arms with a pout. "Oh, that's just mean! I appreciate you joking around to try to make me feel better, but that's just not funny, Snufkin! Come on, we need to get you patched up."

Snufkin winced, shrinking inwards as much as was possible with a crutch. "While I won't turn down the help, as I've found myself in quite the nasty situation, I'm afraid I really don't know who you are."

The creature—Moomintroll, he called himself—stared for a moment before tears began to well up in his eyes, his posture drooping and his arms falling to his sides. He shook his head quickly as the tears began to fall, his voice trembling. "No, no no no! Snufkin, no, you _can't_ have forgotten, can you? What about Mamma and Pappa, and—and Snorkmaiden, Sniff and Little My," He reached out hesitantly, his voice growing more desperate. "What about all the adventures we went on together, the comet, and—and the dragon, and—" He broke off, his voice failing as a ragged sob escaped his throat.

Snufkin shook his head, feeling guilty and not understanding why. He just wanted this Moomintroll to be happy, which was something he had never felt before; not in such an existential way, as if it were anathema to him for Moomintroll to _not_ be happy. "I'm afraid not.." Moomintroll looked as though his heart had broken in two, and Snufkin quickly continued, "but maybe I'll remember if I meet some of these people. Just.. not too many at once, I—"

"Don't do well with crowds, I know." Snufkin looked up in surprise. "I'll make sure only a few people visit at a time, and I'll make sure they leave if you start to get uncomfortable." Moomin tried to smile through his tears. "Oh, Snufkin, do you really not remember _anything_..?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm sorry, Moomintroll." Snufkin looked away, unable to bear seeing this beautiful, sweet, gentle troll in such a state. He froze again, realizing the description his mind had supplied. He had heard of things like 'love at first sight'; but this was absurd! How could he have known he was gentle, or sweet? ..Also, how much did Moomintroll know about _him_? He wasn't particularly forthcoming with things like his discomfort with crowds.. how did Moomintroll find out?

"We should go, I'd prefer to get this all taken care of as soon as possible." Snufkin looked back to Moomintroll and nodded, attempting to remain composed even as his mind warred against itself, trying to put the pieces together. Moomintroll had to be telling the truth, no creature would be that upset if they were putting on an act, and besides; he knew both Snufkin's name _and_ his distaste for crowds.

..So how had he lost his memory? He moved to walk towards Moominhouse, as it was apparently known, when he was stopped by the other boy. "Ohh no you don't," Snufkin squawked in protest as Moomintroll pulled the blanket out of his bedroll on top of his pack, then laid it out on the ground. "Lay down; I'll pull you back. You need to be off that leg." His tone brooked no argument, so Snufkin laid down. He was startled when Moomintroll took the corners of the blanket and simply walked away, dragging him along behind as if he didn't weigh a thing.

He looked up, and noticed that while Moomintroll may be on the round side, his rotund build belied a raw strength that Snufkin would not have expected. He found himself with the urge to run his fingers lovingly through the fur on Moomintroll's neck, or anywhere at all really, but quickly forced it down. He was a Mumrik, and Mumriks travel, never staying in one place. They don't tie themselves down to a place or a person like that. As beautiful and kind as Moomintroll was, an attachment of that sort was out of the question, and Snufkin refused to give up his nature.

They soon arrived at the tall building Snufkin had noticed earlier, and Moomintroll let the blanket down, helping Snufkin back to his feet. "Alright, let's get you inside. I'll go on in and bring everyone who's home up to speed so they don't overwhelm you." He started off, then paused. "Or would you prefer I just chase them off?"

Snufkin started to walk towards the house himself. "You can tell them, I wouldn't want to be a bother."

Moomintroll rolled his eyes. "You're not a bother, Snuf. I'll talk to them." He went ahead into the building, easily outpacing Snufkin's awkward hobble. Snufkin took a moment to consider the absurdity of the situation. He was in a place he had never seen, with people he'd never met, who all apparently knew him- and very well at that. He had a broken leg and gashes across his back and side that he couldn't explain. Furthermore, he had a creeping sense of familiarity hanging over him, like a word that you can't quite think of; infuriatingly close, but always dancing away just as one reaches for it. And to top it all off; his rescuer was kind, devastatingly beautiful, and seemed to be quite capable to boot.

This was going to be an interesting spring, to say the least.

He made his way inside, fumbling with the door a bit before finally succeeding at closing it behind him without dropping his crutch. He turned back to find a very similar creature with an apron standing in front of him, a first aid kit at the ready. "Hello, I'm Moominmamma. I know you, but I've been told you don't remember anyone, or even the valley?"

"That's correct, I'm positive I'd remember something as beautiful as Moominvalley," His voice faltered for a moment as his gaze landed on Moomintroll, who was still unaware of his entrance, and who was staring at his paws in shock; like everything he had ever loved had been taken from him. "Thank you for helping me; I don't have much, but I'm sure I can make it up to you somehow."

"Nonsense, _you_ may not remember, but you're always welcome here for as long or as little as you want to stay." Moominmamma helped him sit on the floor, and quickly set about taking care of his injuries, cutting the ragged parts of his tunic away first. "So, what happened to you?"

"I.. don't remember that either. I woke up a few hours ago not too far from here, and I was like this. There was a great deal of broken foliage, it looked like a bear or something of the sort. I'm just happy I'm alive." Snufkin recounted his strange circumstances as Moominmamma bandaged the wounds on his torso.

She turned her head to call out to her son without looking away from her task. "Moomin, dear, can you fetch me some spare clothes from the Room For Everything? It would be best if Snufkin didn't have to wear a tunic covered in blood with great holes in it. Well-used is all well and good, but this is where I draw the line." She turned back to Snufkin as Moomin called out in acknowledgment. "Don't worry; it's something that was left by another traveler, and now it travels on with you. I know you prefer possessions with a story."

Snufkin stared in shock; he had _never_ told anyone that. He kept to himself, never getting too friendly with anyone he met, or so he thought. Just how well did these people know him? He shook his head to clear it, then nodded with a small smile. "Thank you." It wouldn't do to be rude, after all.

Moomin—and wasn't that a lovely name, _Moomin_ ,—returned with the clothes on his arm. "Here you go, Snuf. Do you want me to give you some space?" He wrung his paws, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

Snufkin looked up at him, and was struck by how caring he must be. He clearly considered Snufkin to be a dear friend, and yet he was asking if he should go, despite his obvious desire to stay. "You can stay here, if you like. I don't mind, and you look like it would make you feel better."

"Of course it would!" Moomin looked affronted for a moment, then seemed to realize the situation all over again. "I just.. I worry, that's all." He sat down next to Snufkin, close enough that he could touch him if he were to lean over. "Is this too close?"

"No, that's just fine. I really do appreciate all you're doing for me, Moomin, Moominmamma. Oh, I'm sorry, is it alright if I call you Moomin?" Snufkin saw Moominmamma shoot her son a concerned look, and he turned to follow her gaze. For a moment, it looked like his expression was one of raw anguish, but it was gone so quickly Snufkin wasn't sure he'd seen it at all, replaced by a gentle smile.

"Of course, go right ahead." Moominmamma finished with the bandages and began to unwrap the splint, causing Snufkin to hiss in pain before quickly schooling his expression back to one of stoic indifference. He took the clean tunic he had been offered, then pulled his torn, bloodied rags over his head. "Oh, Snufkin..!" Moomin covered his mouth with his paws, eyes wide as he stared at Snufkin's back.

"..Is something wrong?" Snufkin paused a moment, unsure what had distressed Moomin so.

"Your bruises cover almost your whole torso..! Snuf, do you need something for the pain? You must be in agony right now, and I didn't check, oh, I'm so sorry—" Moomin was becoming increasingly frantic, and Moominmamma cut him off.

"Moomin, dear, go get me grandmother's recipe book. I'll get him taken care of. You need to go find something to take your mind off all this, you're only making it harder for yourself sitting and dwelling on it." She didn't look up from her task.

"But Mamma, I have to be there for Snufkin!" Moomin cried out, and the tears began anew, arms held close to his body with his paws clasped in front of his mouth.

What dear friends they must have been, for him to be this distraught.

She shooed him out of the room—"The book, dear."—then finished unwrapping his leg. She gasped softly. "Oh dear, this is worse than I thought.."

Moomin returned with the book, then flinched as he saw the state of Snufkin's leg, which was an ever nastier shade of purple than before. He steeled himself, then handed the book to Moominmamma before pausing next to Snufkin. "Snuf.. can I ask a favor of you?" Moominmamma and Snufkin both looked at him at this, confused.

"Well, I'd like to know what it is before I agree, but I _do_ owe you a great deal." Snufkin smiled softly.

"You don't owe me anything, Snuf. I know you don't like to be touched a lot of the time, but.. It would really make me feel a lot better if you would allow me to hug you, even if it's just for a little bit. You don't even have to hug me back," Moomin looked away, trembling as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"If it would make you feel better, then I suppose I don't have any objections. Are you sure you want to risk getting blood on your fur?" Snufkin held out his arms gingerly, and Moomin swept in with a gentleness that somehow surprised Snufkin, even as he expected it.

Snufkin gave in to temptation and ran his fingers through the fur on Moomin's back, trying not to think about the little thrill he felt when Moomin shivered at his touch. "It'll wash out, and even if it doesn't.. It will have been worth it to feel your heartbeat, to know you're alive and fighting. It helps me know you'll be okay, Snufkin." Moomin's voice was soft in his ear, their cheeks pressed together. "I'll be around; if you need me for anything, anything at all, just call for me, and I'll be by your side." He let go and stood back up, giving Snufkin one last warm smile before leaving.

What dear friends, indeed.

He returned his attention to his leg and Moominmamma who was looking through her book. "You've got a nasty injury here; it's not just broken.. I've never seen anything like it before." She sighed and set the book down, starting the process of dressing the wound. "Let's get this taken care of; for now we'll treat it like a normal broken leg, but I'll keep looking."

"Thank you, again." Snufkin lowered his head, feeling guilty about the trouble he had caused, but mostly about how bleak Moomin had looked as he left.

"Think nothing of it." Moominmamma finished dressing the wound in silence, and put a much better splint on his leg. "There, you should be able to walk around somewhat; be sure to take it easy and rest as much as possible, however. I also must insist you stay with us while you heal, I don't want you making anything worse trying to set up your campsite."

"Oh, I couldn't intrude, I'm sure I can—" Snufkin started to protest, but cut himself off when Moominmamma met his gaze with a very solemn look.

"It would make Moomin very happy if you stayed."

For some inexplicable reason, this stopped Snufkin in his tracks. Why _did_ it matter so much to him if Moomin was happy? Snufkin supposed that if they were close enough for Moomin to be this upset, it made sense that he would be concerned with his friend's happiness. He tried not to think about what that would mean for his wandering lifestyle, opting instead to return his mind to the present of his own accord. "Then I suppose I could stay, at least for a little while. Should I set up my bedroll?"

"You'll have to discuss that with Moomin, he's probably going to ask you to stay in his bed." Moominmamma gave him a knowing smile, but there was something sad about it that Snufkin couldn't pin down.

"..In his bed?" Snufkin raised an eyebrow.

"If it's what you wanted, I have no doubt he'd let you stay in his bed _with_ him." Moominmamma smiled wryly to herself as she packed up the first aid supplies. "Or you could stay in your bedroll on the cold floor. Like I said, you'll have to discuss it with him, not me."

"..You said you have no doubt?" Snufkin mouth twisted as he deliberated a few moments, then he nodded hesitantly. "This.. is rather unlike me, but I think for once I'm going to simply accept and go to bed. Now that I'm not in danger, the day is catching up to me, and everything hurts." Snufkin struggled to pull himself to his feet, then looked around for a moment. "Er.. Where _is_ Moomin's room?"

Moominmamma walked to the door and called Moomin's name. She then went to a cabinet and handed Snufkin a tiny jar labeled 'OUCH'. "Put a dab of that- just a bit, it's very potent- behind your ear if the pain gets to be too much. You can take it with you in case you need it during the night." The cabinet was left standing open, and as she went to close it, he spotted two other jars that were the same size, labeled 'ouch' and 'Ouch'.

After a minute or so, Moomin rushed in. "You called? I came as—" He panted for a moment, holding up a finger with his other paw braced on his knee. "as fast as I could,"

Snufkin looked at Moomin, and wondered how he had managed to befriend someone so loyal, so dedicated that they would seemingly drop anything—and _run..!_ —just to take care of him. "You didn't need to run, Moomin. I wanted to go to bed, and Moominmamma said you wouldn't mind if I used your room.."

"Oh! Of course, follow me!" Moomin smiled warmly and turned to lead the way upstairs.

Snufkin trailed behind, still taking in a few details here and there, despite his exhausted state. The house was a sturdy timber, lovingly crafted with the intent to last for generations to come. The stairs creaked ever so gently, the kind of creak that a house gets when it has been well loved, not because of bad joinery or poor lumber. Moomin had a very genuine air about him, both the good and the bad; he would occasionally lose his balance or bump into things, but he was also easy to trust. He said what he meant, and he meant what he said, though he was not immune to miscommunications, just like anyone else. Snufkin shook his head quickly once, blinking in confusion. He couldn't presume to have known all that. He'd known Moomin for all of an hour; plus, he hadn't bumped into anything the whole—

As if to prove a point, Moomin walked a bit too close to a table in the hall, clipping it with his hip. Snufkin heard a soft 'oof', and he watched as Moomin rubbed the spot absentmindedly, clearly used to this sort of thing. Lucky guess, Snufkin supposed. Or perhaps he was remembering details in a roundabout way. He tried not to think too hard about some of the other things that had been coming to mind, like how much he adored the little flick of Moomin's tail as he walked, or how nice it might feel to tuck his head in the crook of Moomin's neck—

Snufkin decided that was enough of _that_.

Snufkin followed Moomin into his room, looking around in wonder at all the interesting things on the shelves, and the desk, why, it seemed that every available surface was covered in various curiosities. He wasn't much for material things, preferring only to carry the essentials, but he could somehow sense that each and every thing in this room had a story. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw something glint a vibrant blue as the light hit it _just_ right, and he found himself gravitating to it. "This is quite the interesting stone; where did you find it?" He tilted his head from side to side, trying to see that lovely blue color again, and was surprised when he saw a flash of green this time. Hm. The angle must have been different..?

Moomin looked back and gave a fond smile as he saw Snufkin staring intently, moving his head from side to side in a rare display of unguarded interest. Moomin's expression grew distant as he recalled the origins of that particular object. "You brought it to me. All of this," He gestured around the room as he spoke, "is stuff you gave me, actually. It makes me happy to be able to look around and be surrounded by memories of you and your adventures."

Snufkin felt himself flush slightly at the affection in Moomin's voice. He had never been the recipient of that much adoration from someone, and for Moomin to keep so many things _just_ because they'd been from him? He decided then and there that even if he never got his memories back, this Moomintroll was someone to be cherished. It's not often one finds such a loyal friend, after all.

"Well, maybe after I get some rest you can tell me some of those tales. Or you could tell me some tales of _your_ adventures, you know quite a lot about me, it seems, but I only know your name." Snufkin felt himself drooping, and he looked over to the bed, which he noticed had the covers pulled back. "Oh, I could have taken care of that,"

"Nonsense!" If Moomin's appearance hadn't already marked him as Moominmamma's son, his doggedly relentless hospitality certainly would have. "Let me take care of you, Snuf. I know I'm a.." Moomin's voice faltered a moment. "a stranger to you right now, but you're still important to me. You're so independent, and capable, and I know you can get on just fine with no help at all. But it makes me happy when I can take care of you; it makes me feel needed."

Snufkin pulled his hat down to hide his face for a moment. "Alright. Thank you, Moomintroll." He looked back at his.. friend. Yes, friend.

Moomin looked at him with a sad smile, then patted the bed. "You look exhausted, Snuf. Get some rest, and don't hesitate to let me or Mamma or Pappa know if you need something." Moomin stood up, then paused a moment. "You will ask, won't you?"

Snufkin realized he wasn't sure if he could ever say no to Moomin, especially not when his worry and affection for Snufkin were so clearly on display. "Of course. We're.. friends, right?" Was he being too reckless? Should he have waited to see how things played out before making that kind of social promise?

Snufkin's doubts evaporated as Moomin's eyes truly lit up for the first time since he had first arrived. "The best in the whole world, Snufkin." He beamed from ear to ear, but quickly grew confused when Snufkin flinched away. "Oh, I'm sorry, was that too much? I can tone it down," Moomin flushed, ducking his head slightly.

Snufkin decided the best policy was to go along with Moomin's misinterpretation. His sudden fear of teeth was his secret to keep, inexplicable as it may be. "No, not at all, I'm just.. I don't know why, but when I can see all your teeth like that, I.."

..Or he could just tell Moomin everything. As much as Snufkin wanted to be skeptical, to be wary, he knew deep down he could never be suspicious of Moomintroll. He trusted him absolutely, and that thought was nearly as terrifying as the thought of those teeth closing on—

Snufkin had certainly had enough of _that_ , too.

Moomin's eyes widened. "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry! I'll stick with closed mouth smiles from now on, then." As if to demonstrate, he gave the widest smile he could with his mouth still closed, and Snufkin felt his heart flutter. "Anyway, I'll be going so you can rest. Don't forget, I'm just a yell away."

Snufkin sat heavily on the edge of the bed, not taking his eyes off Moomin as he walked to the other side of the room. He turned to close the door and noticed Snufkin watching him intently. He tilted his head with a bemused expression. "Did I forget something?" Snufkin shook his head, and Moomin smiled. "Alright. Sweet dreams, Snuf."

"Thank you, Moomin." The door closed, and Snufkin laid down as best as he could with the splint on his leg. That Moomin was quite the individual. He looked around at all the things—all the _tales_ —scattered about the room and smiled softly to himself before closing his eyes. His last thought before he drifted off was of Moomin gesturing excitedly, a smile on his face as he told some tale or another, and as Snufkin dreamt, he dreamt of the softest fur he had ever felt.

 

* * *

 

Snufkin jolted awake to the sound of the door closing, and he saw his Moomin at the door, looking back at him apologetically. "Sorry about that, I forgot how much of a light sleeper you used to be."

What..? What does he mean _used_ to be..? "Don't worry about it," Snufkin watched as Moomin rooted around, rolling something out onto the floor. His mind was having trouble processing what he was seeing, and through the haze of sleep, it elected to just ask instead. "What are you doing?" He spoke with all the eloquence and tact that should be expected of someone who is half asleep; which is to say, none at all.

Moomin paused, then continued. "I'm setting up a bedroll."

Snufkin mulled this over for a moment, then decided that something about it didn't sit right with him. "Tha's.. wrong." He hummed to himself, softly, eyes sliding shut. "..feels.. wrong."

Moomin looked over at him. "What do you mean? Me sleeping on a bedroll feels.. wrong?" There was a silence, almost long enough to make Moomin think Snufkin was asleep again, but finally he responded.

"..not s'posed to sleep there," Snufkin was quickly drifting back off, but the lingering sense of wrongness his brain had created kept him from falling all the way into the warm embrace of sleep, leaving him in a sort of limbo; not quite dreaming, but not quite awake.

Moomin sat on his haunches. "Should I go downstairs, then?"

"..nooo," Moomin could hear no doubt hear the pout in his voice, and Snufkin gave a small irritated huff before continuing quieter than before. "that's even _worse_ ,"

Moomin's voice was soft, almost hopeful. "..Then where _am_ I supposed to sleep?"

"..in your bed," Snufkin's voice was growing quieter. "silly Moomin.."

"But you're in my bed." Moomin was stock still, presumably trying to make sure he understood the situation.

"..'s fine, 'm not very.." With the misunderstanding resolved—in _his_ mind—Snufkin trailed off, breathing slow and even as he returned to his slumber.

 

* * *

 

Snufkin woke slowly to sunlight on his face. Why wasn't he in his tent? Oh, right, he was in Moomin's room. He looked over to see Moomin sleeping on a bedroll across the room. He furrowed his brow. He didn't have to sleep on the floor in his own house, that's ridiculous. Snufkin stopped again as he realized the only other places to sleep were the couch downstairs, or.. in the bed with him. Or in another person's room, but this thought only occurred to him much later.

Moomin rolled over, and Snufkin could see _his_ brow was furrowed as well. He mumbled a bit, though Snufkin could only make out a few pieces. "..didn't mean to.." Moomin whimpered slightly. "..'m really sorry, Snuf.."

Was.. was Moomin having a nightmare about upsetting him? That wouldn't do at all.

And before his rational mind had a chance to catch up, he went to swing his legs out of the bed to comfort his friend. Naturally, this ended with Snufkin clattering to the floor in a heap, a sharp pain in his broken leg standing out above the dull pain everywhere else.

He gave a strangled cry as he landed, and Moomin shot up out of his makeshift bed, looking around. He quickly scrambled over on all fours as he noticed Snufkin, who was crumpled on the floor with a pained expression. "Snufkin! Are you okay? What happened?"

Snufkin contemplated his response, but yet again he found himself answering before he could employ his better judgment. "I woke up and you were having a nightmare, but.. I didn't remember my leg was broken before I tried to get up to wake you." Snufkin felt horribly embarrassed. What a silly mistake to make!

"But how did you end up on the floor? Shouldn't you have just sat back down?" Moomin blinked a bit to wake himself up further, and tilted his head to the side with a yawn, covering his mouth with a paw seemingly as an afterthought.

Snufkin dearly wished he had his hat on to hide the blush on his face. He settled for staring at the little tuft of fur on Moomin's neck "..I may have tried to get up rather quickly, and once I swung my legs out of the bed there was no way to stop."

Moomin stared a moment, paw still covering his mouth, then he giggled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm not laughing _at_ you, I swear!"

Snufkin smiled wanly, his complexion slowly returning to normal. "It's alright, I know you aren't." And it was true, Snufkin hadn't even considered for a moment that Moomin might be laughing at him.

After a moment more Moomin calmed himself, looking at Snufkin somewhat guiltily. "Did it really seem that bad?"

Snufkin's blush returned with a vengeance, and he looked away. "You were mumbling, and you said something about not meaning to, and you.. you were apologizing to _me_ ," There was a pause as he floundered, trying to find the words. "I guess I just felt guilty about how much distress I've caused you; you've done nothing but care for me, and I'm even causing you trouble in your _sleep_.." He shrugged and ducked his head. "I didn't really think about it all that much, I just knew that I didn't want you to be in such distress."

Moomin stared wide-eyed. "Snufkin, do you.. Do you think your memories might be coming back?"

"Perhaps," Snufkin admitted, "I keep thinking things that don't make sense for me to know, but some of them are turning out to be true. Yesterday I thought.." Snufkin trailed off as he realized his mistake. How could he bring up the fact he knew Moomin was clumsy? There was no way to phrase that thought in a positive light without including the context, and the context was entirely too affectionate for Snufkin to be comfortable sharing it with a stranger. They may have known each other before, but Snufkin still didn't know how to feel about Moomin. This was, of course, denial; deep down he knew perfectly well why his heart fluttered when Moomin smiled, or why he had a warm feeling in his chest when he heard Moomin giggle, or what it meant to feel a rush of affection when he saw the sunset playing off his fur, his fur fluttering gently as the sea breeze blew past them—

"—ufkin? Snufkin?" Moomin looked concerned. "Are you alright? You just trailed off.."

Snufkin was sure he was going to combust if the heat on his face was any indication. His embarrassing daydreams—memories?—aside, Moomin had unknowingly provided him an out and he was going to take it. "I think I'm just out of sorts; food may be just the thing I need. I _do_ love Mamma's pancakes."

The silence was deafening as the two stared at each other, identical expressions of shock on their faces.

Then Moomin broke into a grin, and he quickly brought his paw up in front of his face as he failed to keep his mouth closed in his excitement. "Is that what you meant earlier?! You remember Mamma?!"

Snufkin tilted his head from side to side, and his tone was strained. "That's just the trouble; I don't, I have no idea why I would say something like that. I can't recall a thing, but it's obviously something you know too, which means it's real." He sighed. "I just don't know what to do about all this."

"That's okay though!" Moomin jumped up, his fists clenched in front of him resolutely. Combined with the determined look on his face, he cut quite the dashing figure. "This proves your memories are still in there! We just have to figure out how to get them back!" He held out a paw for Snufkin to take, eyes shining. "And once we do, you'll have the grandest tale this side of the Lonely Mountains!"

Snufkin took the offered paw, Moomin easily pulling him to his feet. "When you put it like that, it almost does seem like an adventure, doesn't it?" He smiled at Moomin, not realizing he had yet to let go of the other's paw.

Moomin smiled back. "A quest!" He made a grand gesture, letting go of Snufkin's paw. "The Quest for Snufkin's Memories!" His stomach growled, cutting through the charged atmosphere, and he giggled again. "Oh, I suppose we should eat before we get _too_ excited,"

"Yes please, I'm very hungry." He tried not to think about why he felt disappointed at the loss of contact; instead turning to exit the room, quickly occupying his thoughts with the promise of food. But try as he may, what Moomin had said still echoed in his mind.

'The Quest for Snufkin's Memories'.. That _does_ sound like quite the tale, doesn't it? The title still needs something else, though.. Ah, of course; he knew just the thing that was missing. Every story needs its hero, after all, and Snufkin knew just who it would be, sure as he knew the sun would rise and set. Someday, when he tells this story, he'll call it:

The Quest for Snufkin's Memories: A Tale of a Moomin's Loyalty.


	2. Communing With Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin attempts to adjust to his situation.  
> Moomin does his best to help.

Snufkin found himself at the Moomin's kitchen table, with a stack of pancakes he could swear was as tall as his head. "Ah, I'm.. not sure if I'll be able to finish all of these," Snufkin shifted nervously, but Moominmamma just laughed.

"Don't you worry dear, I'm sure Moomin will finish what you don't, and if he doesn't, Little My certainly will." There was a thump at the window, and the three turned to see the little troublemaker herself mid-flight, having apparently tackled the window open. She landed in a heap, but after but a moment she sprang to her feet, dashing over to Snufkin.

"I _knew_ you had to be back! I haven't heard this one," Little My pointed at Moomin, a mischievous grin on her face. "pining for you for an entire day!" Moomin had frozen, wide eyed, and Moominmamma quickly interjected.

"Snufkin, this is Little My, she's a bit of a troublemaker, though you usually get along well. Little My, Snufkin has lost his memories, so he has no idea what you're talking about." There was a silence, then Little My turned to Moomin with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

Moomin tilted his head, and Little My sighed, walking over and jumping up into his arms for a hug. She said something very quietly, so that only Moomin could hear, and he nodded his head gently, a brief flash of melancholy flitting across his expression before it returned to its previous contented state. She hopped down, then turned to the room again, directing her attention to Snufkin. "Tell me when you figure out what hurt you, so I can make whatever did this **_regret_** it."

Snufkin just sat in his chair, slack-jawed as he watched Little My hop back out the window, closing it behind her. "Oh. That's.." He picked up his fork and started eating with a bewildered expression; he needed a moment to process this most recent occurrence. Did she just swear violent retribution on whatever did this to him? He noticed Moomin staring at him, and he tilted his head questioningly.

Moomin shook his head. "Just worried about you. Don't mind me, Snuf. Just focus on taking care of yourself."

"You shouldn't neglect yourself, though, Moomin." Snufkin shook his head. He was the reason everything was so crazy around here, and at this rate Moomin was going to worry himself sick! If he'd just stayed out of trouble.. "I would hate to see you suffer from my own incompe-" Snufkin's thought was interrupted by Moomin's sudden interjection.

"Don't you _dare_!!" Moomin's cry rang through the kitchen, and Snufkin was shocked into silence for the second time in as many minutes. Moomin leaned over and took Snufkin's paws in his own, steadily meeting his gaze. "You are _not_ incompetent, and you're _not_ a burden on me, and you deserve to be cared for just as much as anyone else!" Moomin looked as if he was about to bump their noses together—and why was that idea so enticing to Snufkin?—but he quickly pulled away instead; the thrill left with him, and in its place was only an empty feeling that Snufkin couldn't explain. "We _want_ to care for you, Snufkin."

Snufkin stared a moment more, then looked back down at his food guiltily. "I'm sorry.. I wish I remembered. I wish I could be the Snufkin you want me to be. But I can only be the Snufkin I am." He looked shyly back up at Moomin from under the brim of his hat. "Will you be patient with me? I know I'm a difficult sort," Snufkin held up a hand to stop Moomin from interrupting again, and he ducked his head sheepishly. "so I appreciate you being so accommodating."

"I- We'll take care of you for as long as you'll let us." Moomin smiled, then turned back to his food, blinking away tears.

"Thank you, Moomin." The rest of breakfast was spent in relative silence, with Moominmamma and Moomin chatting idly about plans for the day, and Snufkin quickly fell into his own thoughts. Why was he so worried about Moomin? By all rights, he should just leave once his leg has a chance to heal, but he could see the heartbroken expression on Moomin's face in his mind; asking him not to go, to please stay, Snufkin, I couldn't bear to lose you, don't you understand, Snufkin? I lov--

Snufkin decided that it would be best if he didn't allow himself to dwell on his thoughts. He set down his silverware, having eaten as much as he could without feeling sick. "That was lovely, thank you. I believe I'm going to go back to sleep, it's a lovely time for a nap after a good meal like that, and I can use all the rest I can get, what with the state my leg is in."

Moomin was silent for a moment, then abruptly blurted out, "You're not going to leave once you've healed, are you?" His eyes widened and he quickly continued. "Not that I would presume to tell you what you can and can't do, I just--" He choked up, and Moominmamma patted his shoulder gently.

"I.." Snufkin should have expected another surprise this morning; things happen in threes, after all. He had just thought of Moomin asking him this very question, and.. No, it was just a coincidence, nothing more. "If we find out what's going on with me, it might be both of us leaving. We have our quest, remember?"

"Our quest? But it's your quest, Snuf. I'm just helping you." Moomin looked confused, yet relieved that Snufkin intended to remain with him, even if it meant traveling together. Moominmamma smiled knowingly.

"I don't know, I think I agree with Snufkin. Equal in all things, dear." Snufkin's gaze turned distant before he shook it off. Why did that sound so familiar..?

"You're right, Mamma. Thank you." Moomin turned back to Snufkin. "Would you like any help getting upstairs? I can get you some water for if you wake up during your nap before you think it's time to get up."

Snufkin thought for a moment. "That would be lovely. Thank you, Moomin." Snufkin turned to go back to Moomin's room, hobbling over to the stairs before stopping, gazing upstairs with a reluctant expression.

Moomin walked up behind him and spoke gently. "Would you like me to carry you? It's no trouble, really. I'm quite strong." Snufkin turned to see Moomin giving him a warm smile.

"Are you now?" Snufkin teased, knowing full well that Moomin may very well be able to lift him with just one arm; it was a given if he used both. It also served as a way for Snufkin to dodge the direct question, for he was sure if he didn't he would say something terribly embarrassing. "I might be too heavy for you.." He grinned mischievously, and Moomin scoffed dramatically in return.

"Why, the nerve!" Moomin was laughing lightly as he spoke, unable to keep his expression serious. "I have just the thing! Your doubts will be washed away when you see.. This!" He threw up his arms, flexing his muscles in an exaggerated pose. This had the unintended side effect of dumping the water in the glass he was holding all over himself, and he spluttered in shock and embarrassment.

Snufkin burst into a gleeful cackle, throwing his head back and only barely catching his hat before it fell. "Oh, what excellent timing!"

Moomin's face was bright red, but his smile never faded. "Oh, just let the ground swallow me up now, my pride shall never recover," He threw a forearm over his head, hiding his eyes. "Woe has befallen me, and now my beloved Snufkin shall forever regard me as I am; a clumsy fool,"

Snufkin's laughter only grew at Moomin's melodramatics, and Moominmamma smiled at the two young men, smiling and laughing together without a care in the world. Snufkin leaned against the wall, attempting to compose himself, but winced as his injuries loudly reminded him of their existence. "Oof, I'd forgotten that my back was all bruises.."

Moomin quickly straightened up, setting the glass down. "Oh! Let's get you to bed then, is it time for another dab from the ouch jar?"

Snufkin let out an undignified snort at the moniker, followed by a small squeak when Moomin effortlessly scooped him up in his arms. Moomin was every bit as strong as he claimed to be, easily carrying Snufkin up to his room. Snufkin allowed himself to rest his head against Moomin's shoulder. The warmth and soft fur combined with the rich breakfast Snufkin had eaten spelled a quick exit from consciousness, and he distantly noted that he had began to purr quietly. Moomin likely already knew he did so, so why hide it? His purr intensified to a low rumble, and Moomin's small laugh was felt more than heard as he faded into sleep once more.

 

* * *

 

Snufkin awoke to find that he was supremely comfortable, and he buried his face into the pillow he had lain on as he slept. He purred softly, reveling in the warmth he currently enjoyed, still caught between waking up and drifting back to sleep. He took a deep breath, nose buried in the pillow, letting the familiar smell lull him back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

When Snufkin awoke the next time, the pillow had disappeared, or at least, he was lo longer laying on it. Perhaps he had kicked it off the bed in his sleep? No, his head was on the pillow, so what..

Snufkin felt his heart drop into his stomach. Had he been nuzzling his face into _Moomin_? As if called by the thought, the door opened, and Moomin walked in. "Oh, you're awake! Sorry, if I woke you, I needed to use the restroom."

"No, you.. you didn't." Snufkin was quiet a moment. "Tell me, did I.. do anything odd in my sleep?"

Moomin smiled softly. "No, Snuf, you didn't do anything unusual. You were asleep before I even had a chance to put you down, and you wouldn't let go, but I sort of expected that. I know how you love napping on things that are warm or soft, and I'm both, so it would have been silly to expect you _not_ to, in all honesty.

Snufkin's face burned, and he pulled the pillow over his head. "I'm so terribly sorry, Moomin. I didn't mean to impose like that.."

Moomin sat down on the edge of the bed and rested a paw gently on Snufkin's uninjured leg. "Snuf, it's okay. You just took a nap on me, you didn't do anything wrong. I could have gotten myself untangled if I had wanted to, I just don't mind. Naps are nice, especially with you." Snufkin peeked out from under the pillow to find that Moomin's cheeks had flushed slightly.

Snufkin hesitated for a few moments, deliberating on what to say. Moomin just looked fondly down at him, patiently waiting for him to pull his thoughts together. What a sweetheart, his Moomintroll. He shook off his mind's usage of the word 'his' and went to speak; but as he looked up at Moomin, the sunlight streaming through the window lighting up his fur, he found himself rendered speechless as his heart leapt into his throat.

How could one creature hold so much beauty?

The bright blue of his eyes, the gentle wavy patterns that played over his fur as the window's imperfections bent the light.. He knew sometimes a thing's imperfections were what made it what it was, but he had never seen something whose imperfections made other things even lovelier.

"Snufkin? You're just staring at me; are you alright?" He quickly continued. "I don't mind, don't worry about that; I'm just a worrier." Moomin's fond expression had turned to one of confusion.

"If you don't mind naps, would it be too much to ask you to.." Snufkin petered off, hiding his face again. "Never mind, forget I said anything,"

"Do you.. want me to lay down so you can nap on me again?"

Snufkin's voice was muffled by the pillow. "You don't have to,"

"I can't hear you through the pillow, Snuf."

Snufkin uncovered his mouth, but kept the pillow covering the rest of his face. "I said you don't have to.." He felt the bed shift slightly, and he peeked out from under the pillow only to see Moomin smiling back at him. Moomin had laid down alongside him with his arms held out to Snufkin; he had rolled almost all the way onto his back, but still faced Snufkin enough to be able to look at him easily.

"Come here, Snufkin. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll take care of you. Come snuggle." Snufkin blushed furiously, but slowly scooted over until they were nearly touching. "It's okay, Snuf. I promise. Just do what feels right." Moomin gazed steadily into his eyes, and from this distance Snufkin noticed that Moomin's eyes were the exact same _magnificent_ shade of blue as the stone he had been so taken with yesterday. He was mesmerized, and he realized he had reached out to cup Moomin's face with a paw. They stared at each other for a moment as Moomin's words echoed in his mind. _Just do what feels right._

In for a penny, in for a pound, Snufkin supposed.

He tangled the fingers of his free paw into the fur on Moomin's chest, sliding the other around the back of Moomin's neck, finally indulging himself in running his fingers through the fur there. He pulled himself to Moomin's chest, half on top of his friend with his nose resting in the crook of Moomin's neck. He felt one of Moomin's paws settle gently onto his hip on his good side, and he felt Moomin shiver when he let out a contented sigh. Their legs tangled together, and Snufkin's eyes slid closed even as the rational part of his mind reeled at the implications of this sort of casual intimacy. "..this okay?" He was but moments away from drifting off to sleep completely, but he needed one final affirmation that this was something he was allowed to do.

"I'll admit, it's more than I expected," Moomin chuckled. Snufkin tensed and went to pull away, but Moomin's other paw quickly matched the first, urging him to stay. Snufkin blushed at both the care shown in not jostling his injured side.. and the intimacy of Moomin's paws on his hip. "No!" Moomin's voice was louder than Snufkin expected, and he coughed once before continuing in a quieter tone. "Please stay." Snufkin was sure he had to be dreaming. Why else would the most angelic creature he had ever met look at him like that? Ask him to stay like this? Cradle him in their arms like something to be treasured? He was just a Snufkin, a tramp, and Moomin was.. perfect.

No, he had to be dreaming. His mind had taken his enjoyment at being in Moomin's arms and turned it into something much more.

Safe in the knowledge that he was dreaming—false as it may have been—he nodded slightly. He pressed his face into the hollow of Moomin's neck, and fell back into the embrace of sleep.

 

* * *

 

The third time he awoke, he was stunned as he realized that he had not, in fact, been dreaming. He was laying on Moomin's chest; he was entirely on top of the other boy, and he had been nuzzling into Moomin's neck in his sleep. This was it. It was over now, Moomin would never forgive him, he-

He was the one who suggested it.

Snufkin's mind reeled, trying to make sense of the situation. He was nestled in the arms of someone who seemed to care for him unconditionally, and he just couldn't wrap his mind around it. Why? Were Moomintrolls just very caring creatures by nature? Or..

No, that must be it. What a sweet, caring creature Moomin must be.

He was startled from his thoughts by Moomin rubbing his cheek against Snufkin's head with a soft hum. "..mornin', Snuf.." Snufkin blushed furiously, then jumped in surprise as Moomin himself flinched. "Oh gosh, Snufkin, I'm so sorry! I know you aren't usually very cuddly, I just-" Snufkin looked on in horror as Moomin began to tear up. That just wouldn't do at all, not if he had anything to say about it.

"Moomin," He cupped Moomin's face again, cutting him off. "Moomin; you offered, and I accepted. Don't fret. A lot of things are very confusing right now, for both of us, I'd imagine. But if we're as close as you say we are, we'll get through it together." He pulled his hand away, and for a moment it seemed as if Moomin's head followed after, but he shook off the idea.

"You're always the wiser of the two of us, even now, eh Snufkin?" Moomin smiled. "Would you like me to help you up?" Snufkin nodded, and together they got Snufkin off of Moomin and upright without too many misplaced elbows and knees. "Well, that was lovely. What do you plan to do next?"

"I was hoping to go fishing, my arms work just fine, so once I get there it should be business as usual." Snufkin smiled gently.

"I do have to warn you, the other folks in the valley know you like to sit on the bridge and fish, are you sure you want to deal with that many people?" Moomin looked concerned, and Snufkin chuckled.

"Well, it's good thing I have you to help me then." Snufkin reached for his crutch, situating it under his arm. "And if you would be willing, I think I'd like to hear about some of your adventures while we're there."

Moomin's face lit up. "You'd like me to come along? Oh, of course I'll help Snufkin! And I have just the story!" The two boys walked out of Moomin's room, headed for the bridge. "It was a few years ago, and Mamma, Pappa, and I all went on a great sailing adventure.."

 

* * *

 

"..and then we came home, which was a welcome sight. For as much fun as we had out adventuring, there's something about home that just can't be replaced." Moomin stared out over the river, a wistful smile on his face. The breeze ruffled his fur, and Snufkin wondered if he used to feel that way, before he lost his memories. He couldn't imagine not feeling the urge to travel as he pleases, but he also could never have imagined that someone like Moomin existed at all, let alone them holding him in such high regard. Who knows what else might have changed?

He frowned to himself for a moment. Who knows indeed? Moomin, apparently, but not him. Is he truly the same person as he was? Is he truly the person he _thinks_ he is? He shook off his darker thoughts, but that didn't answer the most pressing question:

If getting his memories back meant giving up his wandering.. Did he want his memories back at all? He looked over at Moomin, who caught his eye and smiled. Snufkin found himself smiling back, and Moomin's eyes crinkled at the edges as his smile widened even further. And there was the second most pressing question:

If he had to choose between wandering and _Moomin_...

Well, he would think about that later. "Say, Moomin, did I ever show you my harmonica?" By now he would be surprised if he hadn't, as it was very important to him, and Moomin so far had shown that he knew anything that could be deemed even slightly important.

"Have you ever! You always come back in the spring with a new song, and you sit right here and play it so I know you've come home." Moomin's eyes shone, and Snufkin was once again stricken by the fondness he saw there. "It's always so beautiful. I do so love to hear you play, Snuf."

Snufkin knew a request when he heard one. "What would you like to hear?" Moomin considered for a moment. "On the condition that I know how to play it, of course."

Moomin looked up at him with an unreadable expression. "Play me whatever you think I would like the most."

Snufkin was surprised by this. "Is that so? To make sure I understand; You want me to play you the best song I know, that represents my _idea_ of what _you_ would think was my best song?"

Moomin blinked, pausing for a moment as he sussed out Snufkin's convoluted question in his head. He nodded after a moment. "Yes. I want to know what you think I would like best."

"That really would have been an easier way to phrase that, wouldn't it," Snufkin smiled in spite of himself, nodding and thinking a moment. "Alright, I think I know the tune." He raised his harmonica to his lips and closed his eyes, and the first notes of 'All Small Beasts Should Have Bows in Their Tails' followed soon after.

He played through the tune, and as he went he could almost swear he could hear Moomin singing along. He realized that it was very possible Moomin _did_ know this song, and that he really _was_ singing along. Snufkin opened his eyes to see Moomin with tears in his eyes, singing softly with a smile on his face.

Snufkin's playing faltered for a moment, and he had only stopped but a few moments before Moomin chimed in. "Oh, but why did you stop?" Snufkin quickly resumed the tune, closing his eyes again. He couldn't watch Moomin looking at him that way, no, that wouldn't do at all. Looking at him as though he was something precious, something to be cherished--

He focused on the music, making sure every note was in place. After a small while longer, the song ended, and Moomin applauded enthusiastically. "Thank you, Snuf! It means so much to me that you remember little things like that."

Snufkin put the pieces together. "You wanted to see if I still knew your favorite song, somewhere in here." He put a finger to his chest. "Well, I seem to know it, and better still, I get to remember this one. It's just a fact to know, not a memory, but it's progress."

Moomin threw his arms around Snufkin. "You're right! At this rate we'll have your memories back in no time at all!" Snufkin stiffened in surprise, then hesitantly put his hands on Moomin's back, afraid to indulge himself too much. Not that there was something to indulge, of course, not at all. Moomin, however, disagreed. "You can hug me if you want to, Snuf; _and_ I know that you love how soft my fur is, while we're on the topic. You can run your fingers through it; it's okay even when it isn't naptime."

Snufkin was stock still. How had he known he was thinking that? The fact that Moomin knew these things was becoming the new norm for Snufkin, but how did he know-- "Snuf, stop worrying. I know you really well, that's how I knew."

"That is.. somewhat unnerving, to be honest." Snufkin wrapped his arms around Moomin in earnest. "But I know I can trust you, you couldn't know all this if I didn't trust you completely." He gently threaded his fingers through Moomin's fur, and smiled to himself when Moomin shivered. "Are you ticklish?"

Moomin didn't respond.

"Moomin?"

"..no." Moomin's tone was entirely unconvincing, and Snufkin let out a hearty laugh. "Don't laugh at me, you jerk!" Moomin was laughing along, and he hugged Snufkin tighter.

"Hrk! Moomin! Too tight!" Snufkin patted Moomin's back to make his distress known, and much to his chagrin, Moomin's solution was a bit too simple.

He just let go, and Snufkin, who had been somewhat reliant on Moomin's grip for balance, nearly toppled over into the river. He flailed for a moment before Moomin reached out and snatched his paw, pulling him back up. After a moment to calm his racing heart, he let out a breath. "Okay, I think I'm done at the bridge for the day." He righted himself, his heart rate slowly returning to normal. "Other than that, it was lovely, though. Your fur really _is_ very soft," Snufkin clambered to his feet awkwardly, situating himself on his crutch, and walked towards the forest. "Come on!"

He made it only a few short paces beyond the end of the bridge before he heard the sound of footsteps as Moomin dashed to catch up; after a moment Snufkin pondered that Moomin's pace was _awfully_ fast for how close he was, shouldn't he have started to slow by now? He hadn't gotten _that_ far away, had he? He started to turn to look, only to see Moomin barreling towards him with a panicked expression.

Ah, so he _was_ going too fast. Snufkin felt a rush of affection, inexplicably, and found himself thinking that this was a very _Moomin_ kind of happenstance. So enthusiastic, his Moomin, sometimes comically so.

Moomin attempted to slow down, but there was no time. A series of emotions crossed his face; realization, panic, then an expression Snufkin could only call determined acceptance. Moomin took a sharp left, careening into the river with a comically large splash. Snufkin's eyes widened, and he quickly made his way to the riverbank—as fast as one can with a crutch, at least—and did his best to haul Moomin out of the water. The two staggered up the riverbank, and collapsed into each other. "Well, that was exciting. Are you alright?" Moomin nodded, lying on his back in the grass, catching his breath after his rather unconventional detour.

"Alright, good. I would hate to think you'd gotten hurt because of me," Snufkin was slightly dazed, the back to back spikes of adrenaline having sapped him of his strength; he knew it would catch up to him soon enough. "I'm just going to.. relax for a bit, now," He needed to get somewhere he could rest. He was vaguely aware that he had ended up sprawled out on top of Moomin, who was absolutely soaked, but despite that the sunbeam he was lying in _was_ rather excellent; it would truly be a shame if-

And Snufkin was asleep.

 

* * *

 

He really needed to make sure he didn't make a habit of this. He had woken up pressed to Moomin's chest, curled up in his arms. He had rolled over in his sleep, you see, and now Snufkin had no hope of escape without disturbing him.

Snufkin frowned. Why did he care? Was not disturbing Moomin really more important than being able to leave if he so pleased? There was no way.. right?

Of course not, that was absurd. Snufkin huffed a silent laugh. He was simply unconcerned with leaving, as it really is quite cozy, and so his mind misinterpreted the absence of a desire to leave.

He elected to avoid thinking about how, despite Moomin's fur still being fairly wet, and his personal distaste for being wet himself, he still found it cozy.

 

* * *

 

It had been an hour, and Snufkin was unable to deny why he was really staying; Moomin was very soft, and warm, and loving, and he was going to take what he was offered, as it seemed to be the norm between them. Certainly not because he enjoyed it.

However, he also very much needed to relieve himself, and the dampness of Moomin's fur was contributing rather heavily to his inability to ignore that fact. He was thus was presented with a conundrum; how _does_ one wake a cuddly Moomintroll?

He decided the direct method was best. "Moomin," There was no response, unsurprisingly. "Moomin, wake up," Moomin groaned softly.

"Hmm? What is it, Snuf..?"

Snufkin squirmed slightly. "I need you to let me out so I can commune with nature,"

Moomin made a confused sound, then snorted. "Oh gosh, I forgot you used to say that. Just say pee, Snuf, it's easier." Moomin shifted to let Snufkin up, then stood himself as he realized Snufkin only had one leg that bent at the moment. "We may as well get going; if we're just going to snuggle we can do that at home where it won't rain on us mid-nap."

Snufkin stopped, shifting on his crutch. "That sounds like a story."

"An excellent one, and I would love to tell it to you. Go! Go pee, I'll be right here, and I'll tell you on the way back." Moomin shooed him towards a copse of trees.

He hobbled off, waving a hand behind him gratefully.

 

* * *

 

"So it's a common thing for me to nap on you?" Snufkin had begun with no preamble, and he had done so immediately after his return.

Moomin had blinked in surprise, but then smiled. "Maybe not _common_ , but it does happen often enough to be considered 'normal'."

"-ufkin?" Moomin was trying to get his attention.

Snufkin blinked as he refocused on the present. He and Moomin had just come into sight of Moominhouse.

"Oh, is that Mamma? Come on, Snufkin, we're almost home!" Moomin grabbed his paw and walked off, nearly yanking him off of his feet. He fumbled behind for a few paces, finally righting himself, laughing as he went. They reached the house and flopped to the ground, the heat finally catching up to them. "We may.. we may have overdone it today, Snuf,"

"We? You set the pace, don't put this on me!" Snufkin chuckled feebly, lying flat on his back with his hat over his face.

"Oh dear, you two. I just wanted to say I found something in Grandma's book. I'm still working some things out, but I should have at least _something_ by tomorrow evening." Snufkin lifted his hat to give a nod to Moominmamma, then let it fall back down, his arm flopping down after.

"Snufkin, are you okay?" Moomin's tone was amused, but there was a noticeable amount of underlying concern.

"Alas, I lay dying." Snufkin folded his hands on his stomach, his tone somber and steady even as his hat remained over his face. "A life well lived, I would say,"

Moomin rolled over with a scandalized expression and playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Snufkin!"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Shall we go inside? If you're rested enough to belabor me so," Snufkin lifted his hat, showing a mischievous smile.

Moomin laughed, shaking his head. "You rascal," He stood up and walked over, holding out a hand. "Come on, let's go eat. Maybe we can help Mamma figure out what she found in Grandma's book!"

"Sounds like a plan." They walked inside, paws still linked, teasing each other as they went. Snufkin was happy, here in Moominvalley, and it had only been a few days. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a home.

...Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might need serious revision, but I like to just put stuff out there, so here you go  
> Who knows maybe I won't  
> I sure don't


	3. Where Do Lost Things Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin and Moomin make a plan.  
> Snufkin does a lot of waiting.

"So, Mamma, what did you find?" Moomin walked into the kitchen, pulling out a chair for Snufkin before pulling one out for himself.

"Well, the good news is it's clear what the issue is; the bad news is it's rather difficult to reverse." Moominmamma looked grim.

Moomin's tail began to droop, and he rested his weight on the table, hanging his head slightly. "So he might _never_ get his memories back?"

Snufkin surprised even himself when he spoke up. "Well, I'm sure we can figure it out together, right Moomin?" Snufkin nodded firmly, and looked over at Moomin out of the corner of his eye.

Moomin straightened, tail perking back up. "You're right, Snuf! Whatever it is, we can do it together!"

Moominmamma smiled at the two, then turned the book around. "The trouble is, the beast that broke your leg-" she pointed at a crude drawing, but cut off when she noticed Snufkin's expression. He had turned pale as a sheet, and his eyes were wide, darting back and forth. She quickly turned the book back around. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't think about that!"

"It's ah, it's quite alright, really, no trouble at all," Snufkin's voice wove a rambling path though several emotions, eventually settling on a wooden, neutral tone, but the Moomins didn't seem to be fooled. He sighed in resignation, dropping the act. "Yes, I'm quite fearful of teeth now, and that picture gave me an even worse fright than Moomin's teeth did the other day."

Moomin stepped closer, cautiously placing a paw on Snufkin's shoulder. "Is there anything I can do to help you calm down?"

Moomin let out a squeak as Snufkin leaned into him heavily, burying his face into Moomin's fur. He gave a muffled reply. "Perfect."

Snufkin took comfort in his friend for a moment, and sighed contentedly. After his brief moment of surprise, Moomin relaxed, and his arms encircled Snufkin in a warm embrace.

"Shh, I've got you, just relax," Snufkin heard Moomin murmuring softly in his ear, and he blushed. How had he grown this close to this sweet, gentle soul in such a short time?

He pulled away, reluctantly, and pulled his hat down over his eyes in an attempt to maintain his composure. "You can show Moomin the drawing, I know not to look this time."

He heard the telltale rustling of ancient pages, then an even softer gasp. "Oh, my! I'm certain I would have been frightened too, Snufkin!" There was further rustling, and after an extra moment to be sure, Snufkin tipped his hat back up.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure you would be as gallant a hero as always." Snufkin smiled at Moomin, and a pleasant feeling settled over him; as if all was right with the world, in that moment. What did he have to worry about? He had Moomin; what more could he need?

Snufkin had done an excellent job distracting himself to avoid thinking about all these feelings he had been having over the last two days; but he couldn't hide from it any longer:

He was falling hopelessly, desperately in love with Moomin. He couldn't think of anything he would value more than the creature before him, and he was okay with that.

That raised a question, though; if he was this content with the way things were..

Did he even _want_ his memories back? What if.. what if he _didn't_ love Moomin? Before he had worried that he would be tied down by the memories he had lost, that he would be beholden to this valley, this house, to _Moomintroll_.

Now he worried about the opposite; if he got his memories back, would he want to leave? Would he go back to being the Snufkin he was a mere two days ago, one who had nothing beyond the things he could carry, who lived freely and without anything holding him back? One whose home was the open road, and whose heart was unburdened by messy personal attachments?

The more Snufkin thought about it, the more he realized none of that sounded nearly as romantic as it once had.

He had never fallen in love before, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to risk losing what he had found; no one had ever captivated him so, not the way Moomintroll had. But at the same time.. his memories were his and his alone. He didn't much fancy the idea of some beast running around with them. Speaking of..

"What does the book say about the beast?" Snufkin looked back to Moominmamma. "I think the first step is finding out if we can do anything at all; no sense trying to make plans for a task we don't know."

"The beast has been described in a lot of different ways by a lot of different travelers, it would seem. Almost like a legend, or a folk tale, but there's enough consistency for Grandma to say it's real, and that's proof enough for me." Moominmamma set the book down. "The stories have a common theme: all the travelers that _could_ describe the beast had lost something very dear to them, and those that couldn't had memory loss the same as you. Most also had injuries similar to yours, though some had none at all."

Moomin stared, wide eyed. "Does it say how they got those things back, that were so dear to them?"

Moominmamma shook her head sadly. "Most of those who lost their memories didn't return to tell if or when the memories returned; the accounts are mostly of the immediate aftermath. Of those accounts that do continue.. most don't recover what they lost. There are two accounts of what was lost being recovered; the first is a young Hemulen who allegedly lost the desire to collect things,"

"Oh, that's very dear to a Hemulen indeed.." Snufkin's voice was sympathetic.

Moominmamma nodded. "Her story wasn't particularly relevant to us; she simply woke one day and found her desire returned. The second was a traveler who wasn't described; according to this, they wouldn't speak much of what had happened, and asked that their description be left out. They simply said 'Some things are better left in the past.' When they were pressed for details, they just said 'I went to the place where all lost things go,' and would say no more." She sighed. "That's all we have to go on. Do you have any idea of what that could mean, Snufkin?"

He pondered this a moment. "If it was a physical place, and not a metaphor, I would guess the ocean, since all rivers run to it eventually." He smiled wryly. "Though I have a feeling if it were that simple we'd have many more tales of success."

He looked over at Moomin, who was doing a respectable impression of a statue. He was holding his chin, deep in thought, with his other arm was crossed over his chest, holding his elbow in his palm. Suddenly, he jolted upright, triumphantly holding a finger in the air.

"I've got it! We'll find a Hemulen who collects stories!" Moomin beamed, holding up a paw to hide his teeth from Snufkin's view. "One is sure to mention where lost things go!"

"Good thinking, Moomin! That's a much clearer thing to look for. But! I won't allow Snufkin to go out traipsing across the land with his leg in such a condition. I'm sorry, but you really do need to wait for that break to heal." Moominmamma looked at Snufkin sympathetically.

He nodded his assent, and seeing as there wasn't much else to be done, Moominmamma put away the book. "Do let me know if I can help any further, boys." She smiled, then left to go about her business around Moominhouse.

Moomin turned to Snufkin. "Do you want me to go talk to people while you heal? I could try to find out where we need to go, and then as soon as you've recovered we can set off!"

Snufkin pondered on this for a while. One the one hand, he _would_ be itching to go somewhere after too much longer cooped up like this, but on the other hand, if Moomin stayed he wouldn't be alone while he waited.

..And it would give him the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time with the other boy.

As enticing as that sounded, he would have time with Moomin afterwards, so it made sense to have him search now, right?

 _Would_ he have time afterwards..? Perhaps he should enjoy what time he had, there's no telling what might happen..

"Snufkin? Are you alright? You've been thinking for a while now." Moomin looked concerned, a paw hesitantly stretched out as if to touch his shoulder the way he had only a few minutes earlier.

Snufkin smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm alright. Just.. lost in thought, I suppose. Would _you_ like to search in the meantime? That seems to be a much more important question." Snufkin felt somewhat guilty pushing the decision off on his friend like this, knowing that he was doing so more for reasons of absolution in the event Moomin did stay; it wasn't selfish if Moomin was the one who decided it.

"I'd like to get your memories back as soon as we can, so I'll ask around. Will you be okay by yourself?" Moomin smiled sheepishly. "Oh, what a silly question. You've wandered for years, you can take care of yourself. I just worry, you know how I get."

Well, it _was_ the most effective option, and Snufkin was perfectly capable of waiting it out alone. He lived his entire life alone until now without any trouble, hadn't he? "I'll be just fine, and I know if I do need something Moominmamma can help me."

Moomin nodded excitedly. "Yes! I'll be asking around close to home first, so I'll be home in the evenings." He scuffed a foot against the floor, and Snufkin wondered what could have shifted his mood so suddenly. "I could come keep you company while I'm home, if you like..?"

Oh. _Oh_. He fought back a rising blush. His days of choosing to be alone were coming to an end, weren't they? The idea of returning to Moomin would always be in the back of his mind, tempting him with a warm hug and a kiss--

He swallowed, trying to calm his racing heart, and nodded. "I think I would like that very much."

Moomin's face brightened, and he held up a paw in front of his mouth as his excitement boiled over into a wide grin once again. "Then I'll be right by your side."

...his days of wanting to be alone were _definitely_ over, Snufkin decided.

"Oh, but it's getting late, you should be getting to bed, Snufkin! Especially after I dragged you around all day," Moomin looked guilty, and Snufkin cut him off before he could continue.

"I invited you along of my own volition; don't blame yourself." Snufkin held out a paw for Moomin to take. "Shall we?"

"Silly Mumrik," Moomin swept Snufkin up into his arms, and Snufkin was once again shocked at how strong Moomin really was. To be able to lift him so easily, and without so much as the slightest jolt to his leg? Snufkin was pulled from his thoughts as Moomin spoke again.

"I'm not going to make you hobble up the stairs now that I know you'll tolerate me carrying you." Moomin smiled impishly.

Snufkin was typically what he would consider a composed individual; he showed exactly as much emotion as he wanted and no more, which made it all the more surprising when he found himself giggling at Moomin's antics. "I'm starting to think you'd carry me everywhere if I let you,"

Moomin's eyes widened, and Snufkin briefly wondered if he had said something he shouldn't have. "That's it! You can't walk around the valley, but I could carry you! That way, you won't be cooped up alone while I ask around!"

That _did_ sound like a good solution, Snufkin reasoned.

The idea of being that close to Moomintroll all day certainly didn't hurt either.

Unfortunately, there were too many logistic issues; meeting Snufkin's needs while carrying him would take up too much time that Moomin could otherwise spend searching. He would just be in the way.

"While that is very tempting, I would only slow you down. As long as you come home in the evenings, I'll be alright." Snufkin smiled warmly and rested his head on Moomin's shoulder, just as he had that morning.

Moomin began to walk up the stairs, and Snufkin felt the world beginning to fade away. His eyes slid closed, and before long he was aware only of the warm softness of fur and a gentle heartbeat. He heard a voice from far away, but he couldn't quite make it out.

He felt the warmth begin to move away, and he let out a small whine, reaching out to catch it before it was gone. He pulled it to him, and curled up around it as closely as he could. He hummed contentedly, and after only a moment more, he was asleep.

 

* * *

 

Snufkin awoke to find himself clutching Moomin to his chest as if he were a teddy bear. The first rays of sunshine had yet to clear the horizon, and in the pre-dawn light everything was muted somehow, like the world itself had yet to fully wake. He was the first one awake between the two of them- which was starting to look to be the normal way of things- and he allowed himself a few moments to simply sit and admire the boy curled up in his arms.

Moomin was soft and unguarded, his fur sticking up at odd angles in places. His mouth was open slightly, and his paws were tucked against his neck. Snufkin was quite sure that it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. His eyes were closed, but Snufkin could imagine the rich blue color as he sleepily awoke, smiling softly up at Snufkin before gently brushing their noses together-- Snufkin's cheeks flushed a bright pink, which only intensified as Moomin shifted closer, nuzzling into his chest before returning to the stillness of sleep.

He watched the gentle rise and fall of Moomin's breathing, and one of his ears flicked gently, flopping over to rest inside out. Snufkin stifled a giggle at the disgruntled expression that formed on Moomin's face, his ear flicking again in an attempt to right itself, to no avail. Snufkin righted Moomin's ear as gently as he could. Moomin shivered, and made a small sound of distress. Snufkin pulled away slightly, but relaxed as Moomin mumbled in his sleep. "..noo, ears're ticklish.."

Snufkin failed to contain his giggle at this, and he cursed himself silently when Moomin began to stir; there wasn't enough time in the day to admire Moomin as much as he would like. He wondered when he had become so.. _saccharine_. Is this just what love is like? Meeting someone who takes everything you thought you knew about the world and casts it into the wind? He would have never thought such things before he met Moomin, this he knew for certain.

He supposed he would just have to accept whatever feelings presented themselves, allowing his subconscious mind a chance to make itself known seemed to be a good way to regain bits and pieces from his missing memories. While he would typically refrain from acting without thinking, it seemed to be the best course of action; even if it did mean facing his feelings in the moment.

Moomin's eyes fluttered open, and Snufkin felt his heart stutter as Moomin hummed sleepily and took his paw, lacing their fingers together. "Mm.. Mornin', Snuf.."

"Good morning, Moomin. Did you sleep well?" Snufkin smiled down at him, but grew concerned as several emotions crossed his face in quick succession. "Is everything alright?"

Moomin visibly blushed, much to Snufkin's surprise. "Sorry I took your paw without thinking, I didn't mean to-" Moomin cut off as Snufkin squeezed his paw gently.

"It's alright, I don't mind. Besides, you can hardly be faulted for what you do while asleep. I know you would never make me uncomfortable on purpose." Snufkin didn't know how he knew that, so he noted it in his mind along with all the other facts he had rediscovered.

"Thanks, Snuf. It makes me really glad to hear that." Moomin smiled up at him, and Snufkin was struck by how similar the current situation was to his daydream from earlier. He could just lean down, and-

No, he can't do that. It's one thing to be affectionate; it's another entirely to _kiss_ someone. "Of course, Moomin. Now, how about we get something to eat? I know you must be excited to get going."

As he shifted to pull away, he thought he saw a flash of disappointment cross his friend's face, but it was gone just as quickly as it had come, if it had been there at all. "Oh, right."

Moomin sprang up out of bed, a stark contrast to his energy level moments before. "I have a quest to undertake!"

 _There_ was the Moomin that Snufkin had come to know these past few days. "So you do." Snufkin felt an amused smile growing on his face at Moomin's earnest determination. "Is there anything I should be preparing while you're out gathering information?"

Moomin thought for a moment, then tilted his head back and forth. "I'm not sure; once we find out where we're going we'll know better what to prepare for, but.."

Snufkin nodded. "But until then there's not much to be done in the way of physical preparation." He leaned over to pluck his crutch from the foot of the bed, then held out a paw, and Moomin pulled him to his feet. "Well, breakfast isn't coming to us, so off we go!"

 

* * *

 

Snufkin sat in a large armchair, staring down at the tangled mess of yarn in front of him. Moominmamma walked through the doorway, and snorted at the bewilderment Snufkin was clearly displaying. He looked up at her and spoke, his voice deadpan. "It may be that I'm not quite suited to knitting."

Moominmamma looked over at the bowl which had previously contained a ball of yarn, and which _did_ contain a pair of knitting needles, seemingly untouched. Her attention was quickly caught by a sudden, muffled thump, and she looked back to see Snufkin sitting with his hand flat on his uninjured thigh, staring at his hand. There was a brief pause, then Snufkin's eyes widened slightly as he realized what he had just done, and in front of Moominmamma, no less. "Erm.."

"It's alright, dear. I already know about your more.. _instinctual_ feline behaviors." She chuckled and took the yarn and the bowl, setting it aside. "I'll take care of rewinding the yarn; I have a feeling that task wouldn't be any easier for you."

He could feel his face burning, and he nodded mutely. She patted his knee affectionately. "Let me know if you need anything, or if something comes to mind that you want to try."

"Looking for something to occupy yourself, eh Snufkin?" Moominpappa's voice drifted through the doorway to his study, with Moominpappa himself close on its heels. "Have you considered writing? I personally find it very engaging,"

Moominmamma chuckled and smiled impishly. "Yes, but you also write about yourself, and I've never met another who likes to talk about themselves quite like you do." Moominpappa clutched at his heart melodramatically, staggering back until his back was against the doorway.

"Ah, it seems I've discovered the source of Moomin's melodramatic proclivity," Snufkin tried to hide a smile as Moominpappa threw the back of a paw against his forehead.

"Oh, why must you both wound me so! I come bringing a suggestion with only good intentions in my heart," Snufkin and Moominmamma had both dissolved into giggles. "and how am I repaid? Slander! Defamation! Scathing aspersions!"

As Moominpappa's antics continued, the giggles quickly turned to full blown cackling. He righted himself with a smile on his face, then adopted a mock serious expression to look at Snufkin. "You! I expected as much from _her_ ," He leveled an accusatory finger at his wife, even as he failed to hide his smile. "but _you_! You, who we have allowed into our _home_!"

He dropped the act, his smile becoming affectionate. "You fit right in around here, my boy. Even if you don't get your memories back, you should consider staying a while. You're always welcome here in Moominhouse."

Snufkin's laughter faltered as he began to choke up a bit, though his smile continued to shine through. "Thank you," He realized he was crying, but he couldn't find it in himself to mind. "I think I would like that very much."

Moominpappa and Moominmamma exchanged a look that Snufkin didn't quite understand, then looked back. "I think I can speak for all of the Moomin family when I say we would too." Moominmamma spoke warmly, and Snufkin felt his smile growing, even as the tears fell faster.

The couple then gave Snufkin some space to collect himself, and wasn't that nice of them, he hadn't even needed to ask. He sat for a little while, taking in the atmosphere of the home he had been allowed into- _accepted_ into, _included_ in- and he smiled to himself.

No matter what happened, he had a home.

 

* * *

 

And so the days passed; Snufkin would wake and gaze lovingly at Moomin until he himself awoke, and they would go downstairs to breakfast. If he was lucky, Moomin would take his paw, or snuggle closer while he was still asleep. Then they would part for the day, and Snufkin would try to find something to occupy his attention, for Moominpappa's suggestion had proven fruitless; writing was not his forte either. He would while away the hours, waiting for Moomin to return. He didn't pine, he simply waited and was happy when he came home.

No, he knew better than to think he might one day be able to call Moomin his love, no matter how much he wanted to.

The days turned to weeks, and Snufkin decided he would learn to draw. It was a skill he had little opportunity to practice out on the road, and he had an abundance of time. No one needed to know just how often he tried to draw Moomin; besides, none of them turned out well enough to even come close to capturing his beauty.

Then, a month later to the day, Moomin came home with a fire in his eyes, and Snufkin knew he had found something.

"I know who we need to find. A Hemulen who collects all manner of outlandish tales; the stranger the better, and better still," Moomin paused dramatically. "he always does his best to verify them himself if he can."

"That is quite the find, Moomin! Well done!" Snufkin set aside his drawing, then continued. "Where is this fellow?"

"We said this was a quest; now it's official. He lives on the other side of the Lonely Mountains, in a small village where the road down from the mountain meets the road to the Forest of Dreams." Moomin began to bounce up and down on his toes excitedly. "We're going on a real adventure, Snufkin!"

"I suppose we are, aren't we?" He stood gingerly, testing the less restrictive splint Moominmamma had brought him that was designed by the Snork; he would have to thank him later when he got the chance. It tucked into his boot, and had a bit at the bottom- that looked much like a sock, or a duck bill- that kept his foot from twisting around. He was able to walk somewhat normally, and he was very glad for the mobility.

Snufkin nodded, satisfied with the splint, and gave Moomin a warm smile. "When do we leave?"


	4. A Worthwhile Trade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey begins, and Snufkin has a realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the gap there! I promise I'm not dead, I just have a really erratic writing schedule.

"Let me know if you need anything else, alright dears?" Moominmamma smiled fondly at the two boys sitting at the table.

"We will Mamma!" Moomin looked up from what appeared to be a map of the Lonely Mountains and beamed, holding a hand to the side of his mouth to hide it from Snufkin- which he appreciated, since he was sitting not 3 inches to Moomin's left. Moomin looked back to the veritable mountain of traveling gear and supplies on the table. "Though I think we probably need to pack _less_ things at this point,"

Snufkin smiled to himself, patting Moomin on the shoulder solemnly. "I was just going to let you work through that on your own. I know you feel better when you feel prepared."

Moomin smiled gently at Snufkin and reached up to take his paw, squeezing it once before letting go. "You're right, I do feel better if I feel like I've considered all the options. I didn't used to, but you've taught me the importance of careful planning."

"I see how it is, no credit for your old man; the time-tested adventurer, the clever and dashing rogue," Moominpappa's voice rang out from the study, as melodramatic as ever, and the boys laughed to themselves.

"Of course, how could we leave out Pappa, who taught us that _anyone_ can tell an epic tale," Snufkin snickered to himself before continuing, "provided the audience is drunk enough." He broke into a shit-eating grin, and Moomin gaped at him, eyes wide as he struggled to contain his laughter.

" _Snufkin_!" Moomin nudged his shoulder playfully. "What's gotten into you?"

There was an affronted noise from the study, and Moominpappa stomped into the room with an exaggerated gait and a paw on his hat, tilting it low over his eyes to glare dramatically from under the brim. "I'll have you know that is a tried and true method used by bards and minstrels everywhere!"

Snufkin schooled his expression to one of innocence. "That's a fancy word for court jester, right?"

Moominpappa and Moomin both stared at him in shock, before Moominpappa shook his head, chuckling good-naturedly. "Well played. You win this one; I don't have a response to that. You boys have fun, and be safe, hear?" He made his way back to his study, and Snufkin heard the telltale scrunch of old furniture springs.

"Yes Pappa!" Both boys chorused, and Snufkin blushed when Moomin fixed him with a blinding smile. Snufkin just didn't understand how he could be so.. _radiant_ , even while smiling with his mouth closed. It must be the eyes; it really did seem like Moomin took the sky and the stars with him everywhere he went.

"You called him Pappa!" Moomin grabbed his paws, and his blush intensified.

"I suppose I did, didn't I?" He looked down, trying to hide his face with the brim of his hat, but Moomin plucked it off his head playfully.

"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily!" Moomin set the hat on his own head at a jaunty angle and struck a pose, hands on his hips. "Though I must say, I _am_ quite dashing in this hat." Snufkin laughed, and Moomin smiled again. "I'm glad you feel like you're part of the family."

"Mm," Snufkin watched Moomin laughing and wearing his hat, a smile on his face, and felt a warmth spread through his chest. He loved this creature with all of his heart. "Me too."

Snufkin turned back to the map they had spread out before them. "So; there's only one easy way through the mountains," He tapped his finger on the map. "Needle's Eye Pass."

"Why is it called that?" Moomin looked at him expectantly, even shifting to face him, as if he somehow already knew there was a tale to be told.

Though to be fair, things don't end up with names like that without a tale to match. "Well, you see, there's an old folk tale on the other side of the mountains," Moomin's face lit up, and he nodded eagerly.

"Oh, do tell!" Moomin bounced excitedly in his seat.

"He was telling you, and then you interrupted! Snufkin is a man who appreciates a good dramatic pause, and I respect that." Moominpappa's voice called out again from the study, and while Moomin protested, Snufkin began to wonder if Moominpappa spent so much time in there just so he could eavesdrop on the people in the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

While things had been going rather swimmingly so far, when Snufkin heard the sound of stone scraping on stone, he knew that they weren't alone in the pass. Hopefully it was nothing, but it never hurt to be careful.

He held out a hand, signaling Moomin to stop. To his surprise, Moomin quickly ducked down and to the side; to anyone walking up, it would look like Snufkin was alone. Interesting; it looked as though his Moomin had a hidden cunning side in addition to his usual practical shrewdness.

There was silence for a while, and Snufkin crept forward; albeit a little slower than usual due to the splint. He peeked around the next corner, only to see a strange man sitting at a campfire with naught but a backpack and a walking stick. Hmm. Too straight to be a stick; a quarterstaff then? That might be troublesome. Snufkin wasn't aware of very many groups that carried them, and most of them were far too authoritarian for his tastes.

He crept away, back to where Moomin waited. As he drew near, Moomin's ears perked up and looked up at him. Then, once again Snufkin was surprised as Moomin quickly yanked him in _very_ close, and for a split second he felt a thrill, his mind supplying the image of this unceremonious relocation ending with Moomin's lips on his. The moment passed, as it always did.

Snufkin knew better than to get his hopes up. Best to cherish Moomin's friendship rather than risk losing him entirely. However, he still couldn't suppress the shiver that ran up his spine when Moomin whispered in his ear, his voice so soft and warm..

"-nufkin? Are you alright?" Moomin was stock still, and Snufkin realized he had allowed himself to be distracted by his feelings; and in a potentially dangerous situation, no less!

"I'm fine, Moomin, I was just surprised. Sorry to worry you." Snufkin gave Moomin a reassuring squeeze, who sighed in relief, then continued. "There's a man around the bend; I've never quite seen a creature like him before. It looked like he had hooves and grey fur, but I didn't see too much else. He's by a campfire, and he has what I'm pretty sure is a quarterstaff. He could be trouble, he could be friendly. It's hard to tell." Moomin's eyes widened, and Snufkin wondered what he was looking at.

The curiosity was short-lived.

"Well, I'm _usually_ friendly," Snufkin whirled to find that there were only a few long strides separating them and the odd man from earlier. Now that he was closer, Snufkin could see that the man had a long snout—similar to Moomin's, but narrower—with a long thin patch of black hair running from the top of his head all the way down his neck. He had a similar upper body to Moomin; his lower half was another story. His knees bent the other way—or was it that he had an extra leg joint? Snufkin never was very good with those sorts of things—and he did indeed have hooves. "but you caught me on a bad day. Ah, but where are my manners? My name," The man bowed dramatically. "is Lancelot. Now,"

The highwayman straightened, casually leaning on what Snufkin now recognized as a spear of some kind; the one with the axe on top. A helbid? Haobet? He couldn't remember. "I'm sure we can come to a civilized solution, wouldn't you agree?"

"Why, of course we can. Isn't that right, Moomin? This fellow clearly has our best interests in mind; who else would keep this narrow, unavoidable pass through the mountains safe from brigands?" Snufkin smiled amicably, hiding his distaste for such predatory behavior in favor of playing this one close to the vest. "What sort of solution did you have in mind? You are no doubt aware that Mumriks aren't much for personal possessions, but I'd be happy to teach you a recipe, or a tale, or play you a tune."

"You know what I have in mind, you crafty Cheshire bastard." Lancelot's tone was cold, a far cry from his earlier facade. It seemed he had no interest in pretending any longer. Snufkin noted that Moomin quietly set his pack down, and he did the same.

"Alright, no need to be rude." He quickly palmed his harmonica out of the bag as he set it down, then stepped back from it. Anything else could be replaced; his harmonica, on the other hand... He could hardly remember a time without it. "Go ahead, then. Take your pick; but as I told you, Mumriks don't have much."

The highwayman hooked his arm around the haft of his weapon, keeping it leveled at the two travelers. He shifted to point it at Moomin. "You too. Step away from your bag." Moomin reluctantly stepped back, and he cast a nervous glance at Snufkin.

They watched as this Lancelot fellow rifled through their bags, and predictably, he simply scoffed and tossed Snufkin's bag to the side when it yielded nothing of interest. Much to Snufkin's surprise, Moomin's bag did not receive the same treatment. "Excellent; this will do nicely."

He withdrew a carved wooden box roughly the size of a slim journal, and Moomin's posture went rigid. "You can't take that," Moomin blurted, and Lancelot's gaze snapped up to meet Moomin's.

"..Excuse me? What makes you think you can tell me what I can and can't do?" He stood, the box in one hand and the spear—Halberd! It was called a halberd, Snufkin was sure of it—in the other.

"You can take anything else but that, it's not even the most valuable thing in there!" Moomin was becoming increasingly frantic, and Snufkin risked a look at him out of the corner of his eye. The desperation in his voice seemed very real; either Moomin was an excellent actor, and that box was a decoy for this very sort sort of situation..

Or he really did care that much about it; and now the highwayman knew it too.

"What's it worth to you?" The highwayman wore a smug smile, holding up the box tauntingly. "If it's so important.." He leered at them, leaning in. "..then you should be willing to part with something else to make giving it back worth my while. I don't _just_ do this for the money, you know. I also collect things; unique things, typically," His grin turned cruel. "but anything personally significant will do."

"You're a monster!" Moomin clenched his fists, and his exclamation echoed off of the walls of the pass.

"Well, if you don't have anything, then I suppose I'll just have to keep it," Moomin growled in frustration, his eyes filling with tears, and Snufkin wondered what could possibly be in that box to upset his Moomin so. Moomin was no fool, he knew things could be replaced, so why..?

"Please, the stuff in the bags is all we have to offer; you can take what you want, just don't take that box," Moomin was crying now, pleading with the highwayman, and Snufkin's mind began to race, trying to figure how to get out of this situation with them both alive, and with the box.

"Hm. I don't know; it sounds pretty valuable to me.." He grinned. "I might just keep it as my prize."

"Alright, you win." Snufkin spoke without thinking, but forged on anyway. "I'll give you what you want. You want your prize? Fine." He reached into his pocket, fishing out his beloved harmonica. "This is my most prized possession. My only possession, really." He ran a finger along it, then raised it to his lips, playing a short melancholy tune.

..the last song he would ever play on it.

No. No, that wouldn't do. He raised it back to his lips, and looked over at Moomin, who was staring in horror. He played for Moomin, for his love for him, for the memories they had shared even for as little time as he had known him. It was a hopeful, lilting piece, and he smiled as he lowered the instrument from his lips. That was a fitting final performance, Snufkin thought.

Lancelot stared in disbelief for a moment, then scoffed. "Are you serious?"

Snufkin's voice was even. "Very."

"Snufkin, no!! You don't have to do this; it's not worth it!" Moomin's eyes widened, and he clapped his paws over his mouth as he realized his mistake; but the damage was done. A malicious grin spread across Lancelot's face, and he set the box back in Moomin's bag. He held out a hand.

"I'll be taking that." Snufkin hesitated for a moment, but then he placed the harmonica in the highwayman's outstretched hand. "See? Was that so hard? And now,"

He pocketed the harmonica, then shifted his halberd to a two handed grip. He walked backwards slowly, keeping it pointed at the two of them until he was nearly around the corner. "I'll be taking my leave; don't even _think_ about following me." He turned and dashed away, and Moomin fell to his knees.

"No.. Snufkin, I'm so sorry.. I should have just let him take the box; and now because of me you've lost the one possession you care about!" Snufkin felt his heart clench at the sight of Moomin so despondent; he knew he needed to support his friend, but he needed to be careful not to give himself away. However, only moments later, Moomin looked up at him, tears rushing down his face.

" _Why_?"

Snufkin felt as though an arrow had pierced his heart. He rushed over, dropping to his knees to throw his arms around his friend. "Why would you give up your harmonica for a person you- you barely _know_? You don't even know what that box _is_ , so why would you--"

"Shh, Moomin, it's okay. Maybe I don't know you the way I did before, but I know if that box means that much to you, then it's important to me too. You have proven time and again these past weeks that you're someone I cared about before, and you've given me no reason to doubt you now. I may not know what's in there, but I trust you; I know that you're not one to argue with a highwayman over something that wasn't _very_ precious to you." Snufkin gently ran his fingers through the fur on the back of Moomin's neck, holding his friend close. "May I ask what _is_ in the box?"

Moomin stiffened. "Um. Well, uh, you see," Snufkin squeezed him slightly.

"Don't worry then; if you're not ready to tell me, then that's okay. I trust you." Snufkin pulled away enough to look Moomin in the eyes. "Really, it's alright. I'll miss it, for sure, but.." How does one explain that they gave up their most prized possession because it wasn't the thing they were most attached to, not anymore? That he cared far more about his loyal companion, and if he could spare Moomin the heartbreak of losing something so dear, that it was worth losing something dear of his own?

Snufkin realized he had trailed off, and Moomin was looking at him with concern. "Snufkin? Are you sure everything is alright?" He set a gentle paw to his cheek, and Snufkin blushed despite himself; no matter how many times it happened, this sort of casual intimacy still set his heart aflutter. "I understand if you're upset with me.."

"Moomintroll, I will _never_ fault you for standing up for the things you care about. You wear your heart on your sleeve, and your passion is your armor. It's one of the things I admire most about you. While that _was_ what ensured he wanted the harmonica instead, it played out exactly as I hoped it would; once I'd decided to offer it, that is. I wanted to be sure you would be able to keep the box, and you could not have played your part better if you tried. So don't apologize, Moomin. I was the one who _decided_ to do this; you didn't _make_ me do it." Snufkin was looking into Moomin's eyes, his voice displaying far more tenderness than he would have ever been willing to show before meeting this wonderful, beautiful soul.

Moomin stared back, wide-eyed, and Snufkin realized all at once that they were nearly nose to nose, and that he had just given a rather impassioned speech about how much he cared, even if he did so indirectly. "Thank you, Snufkin. That means the world to me, more than you know." For a brief moment, Snufkin could have sworn he saw Moomin's eyes drifting closed, leaning in--

And then the moment was gone, as Moomin rested his head on Snufkin's shoulder. Snufkin's heart was pounding; a moment more of Moomin looking at him that way and he might have done something terribly foolish. "Shall we set up camp? I think I've had quite enough excitement for one day,"

Moomin didn't move, and after a moment of silence he hugged Snufkin tighter. "Can we stay here for a moment? I know you're not always a touchy person, but.."

Snufkin wrapped his arms around Moomin without a second thought, burying his nose into the crook of Moomin's neck. He had long since given up on trying to hide how much he loved how soft Moomin was. "Of course we can. Would you like me to-" He cut off as he remembered that he could not, in fact, play a song for Moomin.

Moomin was silent for a moment, but the gentle shaking of his shoulders gave him away. "I'm sorry, Snuf.. I know how much you love music, and now you have no way to enjoy it while traveling,"

Unbeknownst to the world, Snufkin could actually sing fairly well, but he never sang in front of other people, not ever. It always felt too personal to share, somehow. But..

He could make an exception for Moomin.

"Well, that's not _entirely_ true.." Snufkin began to gently sway back and forth, idly running his fingers through Moomin's fur. After a few moments, he started to sing, softly enough that only Moomin could hear. The song All Small Beasts Should Have Bows In Their Tails was Moomin's favorite, and Snufkin hoped that he didn't mind that he was so close, practically whispering in his ear.

Moomin shivered and let out a small noise of surprise, pulling Snufkin closer, unaware of the effect he had on the vagabond. His ears burned, but he kept singing, and he let his head tilt to rest against Moomin's. After a few lines more, Moomin joined in, and he was struck with just how intimate it was to have someone sing in your ear that way. The two held each other, singing their duet as though it was something they had done hundreds, thousands of times.

Maybe they had, maybe Moomin would whisper in his ear how much he loved him, and they would exchange sweet nothings and kisses while serenading each other under the starlight--

The song reached its end, and Moomin pulled away, a wonderfully fond smile on his face, though the tears still rolled down his face. "Moomin? Is everything alright? ..did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all." Moomin's voice was thick with emotion, and he gently touched Snufkin's cheek. "You sang for me." Snufkin realized that Moomin almost certainly knew he didn't sing in front of others, and that by doing so he had revealed far more about his feelings than he had intended. "I've never heard you sing before."

"Oh, well, I--" Snufkin felt his cheeks begin to heat up, but then Moomin spoke again.

"It was _beautiful_." Snufkin's heart pounded. Moomin was so, so close, and he was looking at him like _that_ \-- but Snufkin knew he couldn't pull away, not when Moomin needed him.

He desperately hoped Moomin wouldn't suspect the true depth of his feelings. He couldn't bear losing his Moomin; that thought alone terrified him, and if he were to find out how Snufkin felt.. "Well, I couldn't play you a song to cheer you up, and I wanted to be sure you knew I wasn't upset with you," He tried to play it off casually, though his blush was rather incriminating.

"You're very sweet," Moomin smiled, though there was something off about it. "and I appreciate it every time." He stood, dusting off his knees, and held out a paw to help Snufkin up. "Shall we set up camp?"

"I think we shall; furthermore, I think we should go make use of that brigand's campfire, since he almost certainly ran off without putting it out." Snufkin chuckled. "We may as well get _something_ out of meeting that reprehensible fellow,"

Moomin threw his head back and laughed, and Snufkin handed him his bag, shouldering his own. "Thank you, Snufkin. I needed that."

"Any time, Moomin." They made their way to camp, setting up quickly and finishing far sooner than usual; having a lit fire to begin with meant they had a little extra time to sit and enjoy each other's company before they needed to sleep.

There was a companionable silence as they ate, as was the norm for the two, and soon they had finished dinner. Snufkin walked a fair distance from the campfire—a lesser known benefit of camping in a place like this; there was no need to worry about the fire spreading, as there was nowhere for it to go—and laid down on a blanket he had taken with him. He looked up at the stars, and soon after, he felt Moomin lay down next to him. He heard Moomin grumbling, and he raised an eyebrow. "Something bothering you?"

"He thinks he's so tough with his spear," Snufkin snorted, trying to keep himself from smiling, and Moomin whined in protest. "Hey! I'm serious!"

"I know, I know, it's just.." Snufkin giggled and rolled to face him. "The way you said it was just so _petulant_ ,"

Moomin looked at him for a moment, before a soft smile spread across his face. "I suppose it sort of was, wasn't it? He just.."

"It's alright, Moomin, I promise I'm not upset--" Snufkin was cut off when Moomin continued.

"If he hadn't had that spear I would have knocked him into next week for calling you a-" Moomin cut himself off, and Snufkin could hear a faint growl rumbling in the back of his throat. Well. That was.. not where he expected that to go.

"A Cheshire bastard?" Moomin nodded, and turned on his side as well; the blanket was large enough for there to be plenty of space between them, yet as usual Moomin chose to remain only inches away.

Snufkin couldn't resist teasing him a bit. He smirked, and placed a hand on his chest, tilting his head back and closing his eyes in a faux swoon. "Defending my honor, Moomin? I have been swept off my feet,"

There was a long pause, and Snufkin began to worry he had said the wrong thing. He opened his eyes to find Moomin avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, that was probably a weird thing to say, wasn't it? I just.. You don't deserve to be called those sorts of things. Especially not by a bastard like _him_ ,"

Snufkin was shocked, but he recovered and shook his head quickly. "No, no, I appreciate the sentiment. I would do the same for you," He held up his paw, then wiggled his arm. "Though I think I might have a _slightly_ harder time if it came to fisticuffs,"

"Snufkin, I think you and I have different definitions of the word 'slightly'." Moomin tried to hide a smirk, but ultimately failed, giggling to himself.

"Oh, how you _wound_ me!" Snufkin clutched his heart, then froze. "Oh no."

Moomin's eyes widened. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Snufkin's voice was gravely serious. "..I just did exactly what Moominpappa did not three days ago. I'm becoming as much of a dramaturge as your father."

Moomin's laughter echoed through the mountains, and Snufkin smiled to himself again. Moomin said he had no way to enjoy music; Snufkin disagreed. Moomin's laugh had always had a certain charm, a musicality, a lilting joy that could warm even the coldest heart. Yet one more reason to make Moomin laugh.

There was silence for a few moments, and a slight tension filled the air around them. Snufkin wasn't sure how many times he could end up this close to Moomin without doing something he would regret, but he couldn't stop, not now that he knew what it was like. "..Snufkin?"

Moomin was looking down at the blanket, and he played idly with a loose thread. Snufkin tilted his head curiously. "Yes, Moomin?"

"I.. Would it be alright if I stayed in your tent tonight? That whole business with the highwayman has me rather shaken up.." Snufkin sighed internally; he just _had_ to complain, and now the universe is doubling down on turning Snufkin into a lovesick fool.

"Of course, whatever you need. You know I don't mind being that close if it's you," And would you look at that, he's already made it weird.

"I know, I know; but it would be rude to waltz into your tent without asking." Moomin smiled. "Thanks, Snuf."

"Of course. Is it time for bed now, then?" Snufkin raised an eyebrow, and Moomin ducked his head. Was he.. Was he blushing?

He supposed it was a bit chilly; that must be it.

"I should think so," Moomin clambered to his feet, holding out a paw for Snufkin, who accepted. They folded the blanket, and cleaned up the campsite; all the while, Snufkin felt electricity shoot up his spine whenever their paws brushed together.

Finally, they stood in front of Snufkin's tent. "After you?" Snufkin bowed and held the tent flap aside, smiling at Moomin's giggle.

"What a gentlemen." Moomin ducked inside, and Snufkin followed after him, the sound of the outside quieting as Snufkin tied the tent closed. He turned around to sit on the edge of his cot to take off his boots, but frowned slightly when he saw Moomin curling up on a blanket on the ground.

"Why are you on the ground?" Snufkin raised an eyebrow. Moomin froze, and his tone was sheepish.

"The cot is rather small, and I didn't want to crowd you.." Snufkin smiled fondly at him. What a lovely Moomintroll.

"That's very sweet of you." But the gesture would ultimately prove unnecessary; if Moomin wanted support, by the stars, Snufkin was going to provide. He kicked his boots off, and Moomin finished settling down.

Snufkin leaned over and plucked his pillow off the cot, then set it down next to Moomin, slipping under the blankets. Moomin jumped slightly in surprise, then rolled to face him. "Snufkin, what-"

"Shh," Snufkin steeled himself, then tucked himself into the crook of Moomin's arm, nuzzling into his neck as a low rumbling filled the tent.

"Snuf are you.. are you _purring_?" Moomin held such wonder in his voice, and as he whispered in Snufkin's ear, he was thankful his face was hidden; his blush would give him away for sure.

He didn't answer for a moment. "..it's always comforting for me, so I thought that maybe--"

Moomin cut him off, wrapping his arms around Snufkin and holding him close. Moomin let out a long, contented sigh, and Snufkin felt that familiar thrill he got whenever he was this close to Moomin. "I _love_ it," The feeling intensified beyond what Snufkin had thought possible, and his face burned as his mind imagined those words slightly differently. "Thank you, Snufkin. I'm going to.. go to sleep now.."

Snufkin realized the troll had already fallen asleep; the poor thing must be exhausted. He would just have to stay here for the night. He closed his eyes. At least he didn't have to worry about Moomin finding him out if he was asleep.

Moments later, he was asleep himself, lulled to sleep by the sound of Moomin's heartbeat and the soft caress of warm fur.

 

* * *

 

"So, you said the town is at the crossroads; that would make it that town there in the distance, yes?" Snufkin pointed at an indistinct blur some distance away, but when he looked over at Moomin, he saw that his friend was squinting in confusion.

"Where? I just see a few dark colored blurs.." Snufkin chuckled.

"Just follow along the road with your eyes," Moomin furrowed his brow.

"But there are multiple blurs on the road! Here," Moomin set Snufkin's paw on his arm, stepping close so that they could both look where he pointed. "point it out for me."

Oh dear. Snufkin was going to have to be terribly— _wonderfully_ —close to Moomin, wasn't he? "Of course, it's right.." He pointed to the town. "There. Do you see it?"

"Yes, I think so!" Moomin stepped away, and Snufkin pushed down the feeling of disappointment. "Sorry for getting in your space, Snuf."

Snufkin blushed slightly. "It's quite alright. Shall we be off?"

Moomin smiled at him, full of warmth, and Snufkin knew that even if there _were_ lingering traces of doubt about his decision to give up his harmonica—which there weren't—they would have been swept away by that smile. The two turned to go, and they began the long trek down the mountain. Snufkin was no stranger to this path down the mountain; his travels had taken him here many times. He appreciated the scenery as they walked along in companionable silence, yes—and wasn't Moomin just _so_ considerate for doing so, he knew how he liked to chat—but mostly he simply watched Moomin taking in the trail for the first time.

He took a moment to admire his friend, his closest confidante—and hopefully one day, his love—and marveled at what fate had brought him. Only two short months ago he allegedly was Moomin's closest friend; but despite the loss of his memories, Moomin crept into his heart without Snufkin ever noticing. He was so kind, and capable. Snufkin admired how he always tried to find the best in a situation; and how if the best was nowhere to be found, Moomin wasn't afraid to do what he needed to do.

The sun broke through the clouds, painting long streaks of gold across the mountainside, and Moomin gasped. "It's beautiful!" Moomin grabbed his paw and pulled him over to where he was standing. "Snufkin, look!" It was a lovely hidden lookout, tucked away just beyond a switchback in the trail. Moomin stared in wonder, still holding Snufkin's paw.

He took the opportunity to watch Moomin, smiling to himself at the childlike wonder and joy on his face. He admired how the sunlight caught his fur, lending him a soft angelic glow. He always thought Moomin couldn't possibly be any more beautiful, and yet, moments like these kept proving him wrong.

He was alright with being wrong in this case, he thought.

Moomin bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet, and Snufkin chuckled, never taking his eyes off his companion. "It's certainly something to behold." Snufkin expected to be embarrassed by how _cheesy_ it was to say such things to Moomin's face, considering he didn't know that _he_ was the subject of Snufkin's statement. And yet..

His thoughts drifted back to the box and the harmonica.

And yet, he had made the decision to give up his most prized possession. He may not get _his_ harmonica back, but he could get a different one. Give it ten years and he'd hardly know the difference. But _Moomin_.. He could _never_ be replaced, not by anything or anyone. So clearly, Snufkin's only course of action was to hold on to Moomin for everything he was worth.

Oh. _Oh_. Snufkin flushed, and as he watched Moomin smiling and looking around excitedly, pointing at this and that, he realized..

He was going to marry this boy, or die trying.


	5. The Storyteller's Doorstep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moomin and Snufkin arrive in town.  
> Finding what they came for proves more difficult than expected.

Snufkin walked with Moomin into town, and he smiled as his friend marveled at how different it was. Snufkin was simply content to watch Moomin enjoying himself, having been here before on several different occasions.

It was a quaint place, all high-peaked buildings and grand A-frames; both hewn from tree trunks that couldn't have been less than 5 feet across in life. Snufkin was rather certain he could see similar graining in the beams of some of the buildings; he marveled at the size of tree it would take to hew more than a single beam of that size, let alone several buildings' worth.

He supposed that _was_ why the town was named ' _Woodsmans' Dream_ '.

The inn was very similar—' _The Maple Lodge_ '—to the rest of the buildings, with two notable differences; it was the only two-story building in town..

And _every inch_ of exposed exterior beam was painstaking carved into a maple leaf pattern. Snufkin had never quite understood why. It was far too high up to see beyond the first 5 feet or so; why not just stop there? How did they even get up there? Did they carve it before they assembled the frame in the first place? He had so many unanswered questions. Sure, he could make some educated guesses, and likely even be close; but he couldn't know that for _sure_ , now could he?

He bumped into Moomin, who had stopped in front of him while he was lost in thought. "Oof,"

"Oh my, I'm terribly sorry, Moomin--" Snufkin began to apologize, but Moomin cut him off.

"It's alright, Snuf. It'll take more than that to bother me." He smiled impishly, and Snufkin laughed. "Shall we go in? I should like to get some sleep soon, I would think. It's getting late as it is, and we were up quite early,"

Snufkin nodded. "I agree, sleep sounds wonderful."

Moomin held the door with an exaggerated bow, causing Snufkin to giggle, and made their way inside. They were greeted by a cheery clerk. "Hey there! What can we do for ya?"

"Hello, we're looking for a place to stay in town while we track down a man known as The Storyteller?" Snufkin smiled at Moomin's tactic; he provided the information the clerk wanted, and threw in the question as part of that. Clever, clever Moomintroll.

"Oh, then you're in the right place! He's a hard man to find, but I'd reckon this place is practically his front doorstep!" She smiled, handing over a key to a room. "Business is real slow right now; you boys can stay for free for a bit, collect yourselves. Ain't nobody comes looking for The Storyteller less'n they got a helluva tale to tell or a helluva problem to fix, and you seem like the latter type."

The two stared at her, floored by her gut assessment. "How.. how did you do that?"

She laughed. "Hon, I'm the proprietor of the biggest inn in town. I've met more folks in my life than both you young'uns put together. I've seen all types, and I know when a type don't need any more troubles on their plate. Go on, you two look exhausted."

"I--" Snufkin began to speak up, but he had hardly spoken the first word when the innkeeper cut in again.

"Alright, I see you're the type not to let this go either. How's this; if business picks up and I need the room, _then_ you can pay me. Deal?" She smiled warmly, but Snufkin made a mental note to never, _ever_ cross this woman.

She reminded him a lot of Moominmamma, come to think of it. "Deal."

 

* * *

 

Snufkin began to roll out his bedroll on the floor, but stopped when he heard a soft "oh.." from behind him. He turned to see what had Moomin so down, and he saw that Moomin turned away, making up his own bed; the slump in his shoulders was clear as day, however.

"Is everything alright?" Moomin started, then gave an awkward smile as he looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, of course!" Snufkin raised an eyebrow wordlessly, and Moomin sighed, his gaze drifting to the floor. "I didn't-- I don't want to make you sleep on the floor,"

"Would you prefer I stay in the bed? I simply didn't want you to sleep on the floor if there's a perfectly good bed here; at least I'm mostly used to sleeping on the ground." Moomin hesitated for a few moments.

"How about we just share the bed; no one has to sleep on the floor. We slept together in my bed, and it's not even as big as this one." I know, thought Snufkin, but I can't explain being that close to you in a bed this big-- "Though I suppose that doesn't matter that much, since we always snuggle anyway.." Both of them blushed at this, and Snufkin hid behind the brim of his hat.

"Sounds like a reasonable plan to me."

 

* * *

 

Snufkin sat bleary-eyed at the table, staring down at the box on the table, his brow furrowed.

Why was this here? Was he supposed to look at it? It seemed rather personal, so he would rather not chance upsetting Moomin if he was wrong. He shook off those thoughts and settled for inspecting the outside of the box as best as he could without opening it.

Snufkin nodded to himself as it dawned on him; Moomin must have decided to leave it in the room to avoid any more brigand incidents. It _was_ beautifully carved, the entire surface forming curling leaves and branches, and in the center they intertwined to form the words 'Equal In All Things.'

Where had he heard that before..?

Snufkin pushed the question from his mind, resolving that Moomin would tell him when he was ready, if he wanted to tell him at all. The matter settled, he set about starting his day. After so long needing Moomin's help for nearly everything, some days he found himself waiting for a helping paw that wasn't coming. He would feel very foolish, and finish whatever task he was doing as quickly as possible. He told himself it was to keep his mind occupied, but..

The sooner he was done, the sooner he could go off and do whatever he pleased; and that usually meant finding Moomin and accompanying him on the tasks _he_ had for the day. He shook the thought from his head, instead opting to really get a good look at the room. He had noted the major features, yes, but he hadn't taken the time to examine the finer details; the smaller beams in the ceiling were cedar, for example, while most of the furniture and trim were pine. The large beam along the peak of the roof appeared to be oak, though he couldn't get a good look due to the layout of the inn.

The bedding was a very soft linen, obviously washed hundreds, even thousands of times over the years it had been in use. He always appreciated things that were well-loved, yet well taken care of. The same could be said of the curtains, though there was a clear windowpane pattern of lighter patches; the sunlight was omnipresent, and there was no washing out sun-bleaching.

Snufkin shook his head and collected his things. It was time to start their search in town.

 

* * *

 

"I'm terribly sorry Snuf, I wasn't able to find anyone who could tell us where he lived either." Moomin frowned, crossing his arms and staring at a point on the floor. His foot tapped steadily, and Snufkin looked over at his friend.

Snufkin wasn't sure why Moomin was so distraught; they were having an adventure, he was meeting new people and seeing new places.. He was having a wonderful time.

Though he couldn't deny that part of it was getting to spend all that time with Moomin; it all just seemed more exciting and fun with him, even though he never wanted other people along before. There was just something about the troll that set him at ease.

"Don't worry; we're really not in any rush, are we?" Moomin's face fell at Snufkin's response, and when he didn't look up Snufkin felt his heart jump into his throat. Oh no, had he said something wrong? Did Moomin think he didn't want him around anymore? What if--

"I know, I'm just.." Snufkin saw another expression flit across Moomin's face that he didn't quite understand. "..I'm having a lovely time, but I can't help but want to take care of this as quickly as I can,"

Ah. There it was. Those expressions were Moomin trying to be polite, when he really just wanted this whole business over and done with. It's not as though Moomin was tied to him; that was silly. Snufkin smiled, despite how his heart ached. "That's understandable."

Moomin looked up finally, smiling warmly. "You always have been so understanding, Snuf. I've always liked that about you; no matter what, you always take the time to understand and be considerate of others." Snufkin felt his heart crack a little more, and his smile grew wooden.

"I try; you're important to me, after all. Even I don't remember anything; how many people would drop everything to go on an adventure to help me like this?" Snufkin didn't know why he continued to let himself hang on Moomin's every word and kindness, but he knew he couldn't just up and stop right away.

He would have to get used to staying a little more at a distance.

 

* * *

 

"I think I'm going to stay in my bedroll tonight; you Moomins keep trying to spoil me with your soft beds, and if I keep letting you I'll never be able to go back!" Snufkin wore an impish grin, but as usual he was simply hiding his feelings behind a facade. This time, however, it was nerves he was hiding; the story he had concocted over the last few hours had to be perfect.

He had never declined Moomin's affection at night, not since it had been Moomin that offered back when he had first arrived in the valley. He wanted to be sure that he didn't hurt the troll's feelings, but he also knew his heart couldn't bear being so close to something he could never have; being wrapped up in his gentle, strong, _warm_ embrace, feeling his breath ruffle his hair as he drifted off to sleep, his heartbeat strong and steady against Snufkin's back--

Snufkin blinked and shook his head rapidly, breaking himself out of his daydream.

...There would be time enough for that later.

Returning his attention to the present, he saw Moomin was making another odd expression, but he only caught it for a moment. "Alright, if you want to sleep in your bedroll, you can." He smiled sadly, and Snufkin couldn't fathom why.

He also felt as though he had done something wrong, somehow; he couldn't fathom that, either.

 

* * *

 

A few days passed as they talked to the townsfolk; travelers and natives alike. Snufkin would sit in the tavern on the first floor of the inn and listen; there was no need to talk directly to travelers most of the time, and they were happy to share their adventures to anyone who would hear them.

Moomin took a more traditional approach, asking around at various gathering places in town. Anyone who ran a store that could have been visited by The Storyteller was politely yet urgently interrogated, as Snufkin had later teased Moomin.

"It was just that one time! You're blowing this out of proportion," Moomin crossed his arms and pouted, prompting Snufkin to throw his head back and laugh.

"I'm terribly sorry, you're just doing your best and here I am belaboring you for your efforts," Snufkin set a hand on Moomin's shoulder affectionately—a moment of weakness, he thought, but an irresistible opportunity all the same—and smiled. "Thank you for all your hard work. It does mean a lot to me."

Moomin's hand shot up in front of his face, and Snufkin could tell he was beaming from ear to ear; it was the way Moomin's eyes crinkled at the corners, the excited posture, the twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, of course, Snuf! You know I'd do anything for you."

They stared at each other for a moment, both of their smiles fading in the face of the tension that had suddenly arisen between them. Snufkin was suddenly acutely aware that it was just the two of them alone in a room at an inn. They had been alone before, but there was something.. _cliché_ about this particular situation. "Yeah,"

Was he.. Had he misread the situation before? Hope began to grow, despite Snufkin's best efforts not to. "I'd do anything for you, too, Moomin." He took a half step towards Moomin, gauging his reaction.

Moomin gasped, almost imperceptibly, and looked down at the floor to the side. "..thank you, Snufkin."

And just like that, Snufkin's hopes were dashed once again. All the same, he couldn't find it in himself to be upset; he was happy to simply be allowed to know Moomin, and to be able to call him his friend.

"..Of course. What are friends for?" And there it was again; Moomin had been making that face more and more frequently as of late, and Snufkin was beginning to worry.

He _had_ to be missing something; but what could it be?

 

* * *

 

"...Snufkin, did I do something wrong?" Snufkin could swear he could feel his blood turn to ice, piercing his veins with sharp barbs of fear. He turned to look at Moomin, and his eyes widened as he saw Moomin sitting on the edge of the bed with tears in his eyes. He was clutching a blanket to his chest like a lifeline; after a moment more Snufkin realized it was _his_ blanket, the one from his bedroll. "I know you don't always like to talk about things, but it feels as though you've been pushing me away the last few days, and.." Moomin took a deep breath. "Snufkin, you know you can talk to me if something's wrong, right? Even if you think it might hurt my feelings. And I'm sorry, for whatever it was that I did,"

"No! No, you didn't do a thing wrong, I promise." Moomin looked slightly relieved, but still very nervous. "What did I do to make you feel this way? If anything I should be sorry for not noticing the effect it had on you,"

"You.. Oh, it's just silly, forget I said anything.." Moomin looked down, clutching the blanket tighter.

"If it upsets you, it's not silly." Snufkin may have wanted to distance himself a little, but not like _this_.

"..I miss you staying in my bed. I know, it's frivolous, but.. I got used to having you there with me, I suppose; and it's reassuring knowing you're still there, that I haven't lost you." Snufkin's heart dropped into his stomach. This wasn't what he had wanted at all.

"Then I'll stay with you again." Snufkin blushed at how easy it had been to say, his heart answering before he could even consider doing otherwise.

And as Moomin's smile brightened the room—nay, the _world_ —the guilt set in. He thought about how Moomin just wanted a friend who would be there for him, who he could trust; and here Snufkin was, curling up in his arms at night, thinking thoughts reserved for lovers, taking advantage of Moomin's kindness and hospitality and trust. He was a terrible friend, but he couldn't think of any way out of this mess that didn't involve breaking his poor Moomintroll's heart.

If he had to simply take this secret to his grave, then so be it. Moomin would be happy, so there was no harm in it.. right?

Not for the first time, Snufkin caught himself fervently hoping that getting his memories back would work this out, somehow. Perhaps he would just think of him as a friend, the way that Moomin felt. Or.. perhaps they were lovers, and Moomin simply didn't want to pressure him--

Snufkin felt the shame in the pit of his stomach threaten to make a swift exit, and he stifled that thought. It wasn't right for him to build up expectations of Moomin like that, especially when he had no idea Snufkin was doing so. No, he needed to accept that his relationship with Moomin was that of very close friends, not lovers. He could take solace in knowing he would still be allowed to nestle in Moomin's arms at night, and really, what more could he ask for?

Snufkin knew he could never _really_ convince himself of that, not even in his mind. He knew that he had to choose between allowing himself what he so desperately wanted, but living with the tantalizing thought of _more_ ; or protecting himself from heartbreak and denying himself the physical comforts that Moomin seemed so willing to provide.

If only those comforts could be provided with the intent to woo; Snufkin would be Moomin's in a heartbeat if he asked. In a sense, he already was.

He would do anything for his Moomintroll.

 

* * *

 

Snufkin felt his heart hammering in his chest as he realized the position he was in. Sleeping halfway on top of Moomin wrapped in his arms was practically the norm by this point; but this time Moomin had somehow ended up with his fingertips just barely tucked under Snufkin's waistband. Not far enough to be inappropriate, and besides, he couldn't be faulted for what he did in his sleep, but..

Moomin shifted with a contented hum, and his fingers curled around Snufkin's hipbone, his paw flexing just enough for the tips of his claws to press ever so gently into the sensitive skin there. Snufkin drew a sharp breath, and he felt as though he were a Hattifattener; those claws sent something lovely and terrifying streaking up his spine, and if he wasn't careful there was going to be a very awkward conversation on the horizon. A dark, selfish, shameful—or so Snufkin felt it to be—part of him wanted those claws to dig in a little deeper, to leave as many marks as Moomin wanted, to _play_ with him in a manner most unbefitting of best friends--

Oh dear. He needed to stop having such thoughts, especially when--

Suddenly Moomin twitched, and the simple, teasing pressure on his skin from before was now a line of sharp pinpricks, and Snufkin couldn't stop the pained sound that escaped his lips; not because it hurt—it did, but Snufkin couldn't care less—but because it felt _exactly_ like how the darker part of his mind had imagined it to, and it drove him _wild_.

The world seemed to come to a standstill as Snufkin realized what he had done. Moomin was going to wake up, and he was going to ask Snufkin why he had- well, _moaned_ in such a fashion, and he was going to kick him out of the bed for good, if not the room entirely--

"Oh my stars, Snufkin are you okay?! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, I haven't accidentally clawed something in _years_ , oh, this is so embarrassing..." Snufkin blinked. Moomin had yanked his paw away, and was.. blaming _himself_? Snufkin's eyes widened as he processed that fact all the way.

Moomin was blaming himself, and that would not do, not at all. "Moomin, shh, it's alright. I was just surprised," Snufkin winced internally at the lie of omission; sure, he had been surprised, but to say the noise he made was one of surprise was to greatly understate what he had felt at that moment. "Didn't you say it yourself that we can't be blamed for what we do in our sleep?"

Moomin had quieted, seemingly thinking. "..Snuf?"

"What is it, Moomin?" Snufkin could hardly breathe, unable to believe Moomin hadn't noticed the true nature of his earlier cry.

"..It's nothing. Sorry again, for hurting you. I.." Moomin trailed off, and he rolled away from Snufkin. "..Maybe it _would_ be best if we slept separately."

...Well. It seemed Snufkin had thought himself in the clear too soon. "Alright, if that's what you would prefer,"

Moomin half turned, taking a breath as though to say something else, but then he rolled back slowly, taking the thought with him. "I was the one who said you should stay here, and then the very same night I hurt you. You didn't even want to in the first place." Snufkin desperately wanted to correct him, but he knew he couldn't without giving himself away completely, and so he stayed silent. "It doesn't make sense to keep you here."

Snufkin couldn't argue with his logic, at least, not without going beyond what Moomin knew about the situation. "I'll.. set up my bedroll, then?"

"..Yeah. Do you need any help?" Moomin still hadn't turned back around, and Snufkin marveled at how sweet he was. He still offered to help, despite everything.

"I think I can handle it; don't worry about me, just focus on getting a good night's sleep." That way at least _one_ of them would, Snufkin thought bitterly. He may have to suffer, but that didn't mean Moomin did.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the two didn't say more than was necessary as they got ready for the day, the night before weighing heavily on their minds. At least, Snufkin assumed that to be the case. He was exhausted, and he was trying his best not to show it; he thought sleeping by himself would make him feel better, but he was so, so wrong. He tossed and turned, feeling like something was missing- if he was able to get comfortable at all.

He hadn't been able stop thinking about how Moomin was mere feet away, and that if Snufkin wanted to he could climb back in bed with him and tell him that no, he really didn't want to sleep alone, please hold me the way you have been, Moomin, don't you see that I need it, that I need _you_ , the same as a tree needs the sun?

And even when he had managed to fall asleep he still wasn't free; half the time his mind would conjure images of Moomin recoiling in disgust, lip curled back, showing those _teeth_ and telling him that he was appalled, that he couldn't believe Snufkin would take advantage of him like that, that maybe Snufkin should find his memories on his own.

The other half.. Snufkin shuddered as he recalled the feeling of Moomin's breath against his ear, whispering softly about making Snufkin _his_. His voice had become a sultry purr, and Snufkin wasn't sure which was more tantalizing: Hearing the sweet nothings and declarations of love and devotion tickling his ear, or the absolutely _filthy_ things that Snufkin still couldn't believe had come from his own mind.

He blushed and shook the thought from his head. He shouldn't be thinking of his friend that way.

"Snufkin, you look exhausted!" Well, so much for not showing it.

Snufkin smiled wryly. "What gave me away?"

"When you're tired you rest your forearms on the table with your paws hanging off, with the backs of your paws together and your fingers laced together." Snufkin would never get used to how much Moomin could tell just from looking at him.

"I suppose I do, don't I?" Moomin frowned.

"Why were you trying to hide it? If you need more rest, you should get it, you're still healing!" Moomin fixed him with a stern look, arms crossed. Snufkin hid behind the brim of his hat, but it was plucked from his head moments later. He looked down, afraid to meet Moomin's gaze. He'd surely done it now.

"Snufkin.." Moomin gently tilted his chin up, and Snufkin shuddered at how the fur tickled his throat. "Snufkin, if you weren't sleeping well on the floor you could have taken the bed,"

Snufkin blinked once. "But.. you said we should sleep separately last night."

Moomin blew an exasperated sigh. "Yes, you doofus, I would have slept on the floor instead!"

Snufkin frowned. "I could never make you sleep on the floor,"

Moomin's expression flickered through a few emotions before settling on a fond smile. "I know, that's why I offered. You need to rest, Snufkin. I promise I'll come wake you just as soon as I find something out."

"This whole waiting in bed thing is starting to feel very familiar," Snufkin laughed to himself. Perhaps some time alone would do him some good. "Alright, if you insist." He pulled his boots back off, and pulled off his smock, leaving him in just his undergarments. As long as he acts like nothing is wrong, Moomin won't notice and they can just be the best of friends--

"Thank you, Snuf. I worry about you; I know you can take care of yourself, but I just can't help it." Moomin's voice was heartfelt and full of love; Snufkin knew he daren't turn around or he would surely do something foolish like dash over to kiss him senseless.

"Thank you, Moomin." There was a long pause, then Moomin mumbled a farewell as he pulled the door closed behind him. Snufkin sat down heavily, resting his head in his hands. What was he to do? Moomin was so sweet, and kind, and even after last night he was acting like nothing was wrong!

He shook his head, pulling the covers back to climb back in the bed. He wasn't going to get any rest if he didn't lay down, strange situation or no. He laid his head on the pillow, taking a deep breath and feeling his face flush as he just smelled _Moomin_. He pulled the blankets up under his chin, curling his knees up to his chest.

He laid in silence for a while, trying to figure out how he was going to survive the coming days, maybe even _weeks_. Before long, everything—the fatigue, the emotion, the _fear_ —caught up to him, and Snufkin began to cry. He clenched the quilt in his fists, feeling his claws poke small holes in it, but unable to muster up the energy to care. He had completely broken down; but he supposed it was best he had a chance to do so alone, rather than worry Moomin even more than he already had.

He didn't know how much time passed like that, his chest heaving and his sobs echoing in the small room. After a while the crying subsided somewhat, quiet hiccups and shaky breaths taking its place; soon his weariness was all that was left, and he was overtaken, dragged into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

"Snufkin! Snufkin, I found him!" Snufkin was pulled back to the waking world with little warning and great fanfare; at least, as long as Moomin shaking him and yelling excitedly could be considered 'fanfare'.

Snufkin was inclined to think so. Moomin was always very easy on both the eyes _and_ ears. He flushed, then drew his attention to the world at large. "..mmph.. found who? What time is it..?"

Moomin bounced excitedly in place, grabbing one of Snufkin's paws in his excitement. "It's a few hours after noon; and The Storyteller, silly! I just happened to run into him in town, and he told me that there was another person close by here that also lost their memories, the same as you! He wanted to know your story, so I told him the basics without getting into anything personal. I promised we'd come back after you got your memories back; I'm sorry for making such promises on your behalf, but that was his condition for telling us where The Joxter lives."

Snufkin blinked at the sudden torrent of information. "Um. It's okay? I mean, I can live with that agreement; thank you, Moomin." He gave a smile that he hoped was reassuring, but he wasn't sure how well it worked, given that Moomin simply blushed and looked away awkwardly. He must still be embarrassed about speaking for him. "Where is this Joxter?"

"He lives just past the outskirts of town; he likes his privacy, just like you do, and he's a Mumrik to boot! He lives here to get word of travelers, he's been searching for _years_ ; according to The Storyteller, at least." Moomin seemed to realize he was still holding Snufkin's paw, letting go hastily. "I'll let you get dressed, and we can hopefully catch him around dinnertime!" He turned to leave, and Snufkin made a confused sound. Why was he leaving? Snufkin was still half asleep, and Moomin didn't seem to be done with his explanation. Moomin seemed to have a plan, too, and Snufkin always did enjoy Moomin's plans.

Always so practical, his Moomin, though he did have a melodramatic side to rival his father's. "Well, you seem to have a plan; let's hear it." He swung his legs out of bed, and he noticed that Moomin blushed, looking away again. "Is something the matter..? Also, is there any coffee to be had? I'm still quite groggy.."

"Oh! I can ask the innkeeper, I'll be right back!" Moomin sped out of the room, leaving a very confused Snufkin in his wake. What had gotten into him?

Oh well. He set about putting his tunic and boots back on, and had just finished lacing them up when Moomin returned with a slight pout. "She said she was out. Sorry, Snuf."

"That's alright. So, you seem to have a plan?" Snufkin fell into step beside Moomin, listening with rapt attention, his earlier dilemma all but forgotten. Sleep really was a wonderful thing, wasn't it?

"Well, I was thinking, and I think our best bet is to bring The Joxter something to eat; my Pappa knew a Joxter, and he was always quite partial to trout.." Snufkin grinned.

"I think we're well-equipped to provide that particular gift. Shall we go fishing, Moomintroll?" Moomin grinned back, and for a moment, all was as it should be.

"I think we shall, Snufkin."


	6. Dreams Are a Funny Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snufkin and Moomin meet the mysterious Joxter.  
> Adventure is right around the corner, but is it what they were expecting?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still writing this I promise things have just been a little crazy

"You brought trout; that means you want something." The Joxter didn't even look up, and the two boys stopped short.

Moomin ducked his head. "Er.. well, yes, we do want something, and we figured it would be best to—"

The Joxter interrupted, though not unkindly. "Bribe me into helping?"

"Compensate you for your time and effort." Snufkin's tone was within the realm of 'polite'—but only barely.

The Joxter laughed. "Well said! Well said indeed. Just exactly pointed enough to let me know my antics aren't welcome, but polite enough not to start a fight. You know your way around a conflict. So," He looked up finally, and his eyebrows raised. "What _do_ you want in return for those lovely fish?"

"We want you to tell us a story; one in particular, actually. We heard from The Storyteller that you've lost your memories, and we would dearly like to know what you know on the subject."

"The Storyteller needs to learn not to go sharing other people's business all the time." The Joxter grumbled to himself before shaking his head. "That's a rather personal subject; how many fish did you bring?"

Snufkin held up a bucket. "Twelve. It was thirteen, but I decided I had no need to tempt fate any further than I already do daily, so I threw one back. Plus now we each get four."

The Joxter looked impressed. "That's quite the offering; I'm flattered that you take me so seriously. I certainly wouldn't."

"This information is important to us." Snufkin lowered the bucket back to his side.

"Clearly. Well, I've never been one to pass up a chance to talk instead of work; take a seat." He gestured to a few scattered logs around the fire which served as seats. Presumably the lopped-off ends of those massive beams in town—the logs were quite wide, but rather short. Snufkin couldn't fathom where _else_ they could have come from, at least.

Snufkin took a seat, and he felt his face flush as Moomin chose the seat directly next to his, despite several other options being available. "We appreciate it." He reached down and plucked a branch off a pile of kindling, then began to whittle one end down to make a skewer. He took a moment to appreciate the knife Moominmamma had given him to replace his. The Moomins really were such a sweet family.

"What do you want to know? There's not too much to tell," The Joxter tilted his head.

"Start from the beginning, please; we're not sure what all may end up being relevant." The Joxter followed Snufkin's example, prompting Moomin to pick up a skewer of his own—though in his case he opted to use the claw on his thumb instead of a knife, as the stockier creature had much sturdier claws as well. Mumriks and Joxters _had_ claws, but they were more suited to cutting fabric or thread.

..Or another creature, but Snufkin really tried not to think about that sort of thing.

The Joxter plucked a fish from the bucket, deftly piercing it through and depositing it by the fire. "Well, I remember traveling, no particular destination in mind; you know how it is." Snufkin nodded. "And then, I was just.. on the ground. And in a different forest, no less. I'd dropped my pipe, which was very unlike me, and I had this," The Joxter pulled up his shirt to reveal a blotchy mauve patch of fur—exactly like Snufkin's, he noted. "I've taken to calling it a 'manifestation'; it's not an injury, but as far as I've been able to figure it's a sort of.. _spiritual_ wound, in a manner of speaking."

Snufkin nodded again, pulling up his pant leg to reveal his own mauve patch. "Whatever took my memories broke my leg while it was at it; it's mostly healed, but the mark is still here. I would think you're right on the money."

The Joxter's eyes widened. "You lost memories too? Why didn't you say so?"

"Well, I'm not exactly inclined to broadcast that fact in case someone tries to take advantage of me," Moomin bumped his shoulder gently at this, and he blushed slightly.

"You know I'd look out for you." Snufkin smiled and shook his head, avoiding eye contact. As he had said: No need to tempt fate. He turned to fetch a fish of his own, but Moomin handed him one as he did, having already speared his own. "Here,"

"Yes, but I'd much rather not _make_ you do so—thank you, by the way." He speared his own fish and placed it by Moomin's at the fireside, then turned back to The Joxter. "Yes, I also lost quite a bit. At least six years, if I'm not mistaken, since I didn't remember Moomin here," He gestured to Moomin, who nodded. "and he says we met six years ago."

"Hmm.. Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm hungry. I say we eat first, but afterwards we can compare notes, so to speak." The Joxter gestured at the skewered fish that he had leaned against the fire pit.

"A good plan if I've ever heard one. Best to have important discussions on a full belly." Moomin smiled at this, and Snufkin wondered if he had picked up that saying from him.

It was probably Moominpappa, now that he thought of it. That sounded like something he would say.

Moomin stared strangely at the scruffy man in the red hat for a moment, before breaking the long silence. "You seem awfully familiar for some reason.. My Pappa knew a Joxter that he was quite fond of, if I recall. You _are_ a Joxter, yes?" Speaking of Moominpappa..

The man lifted an eyebrow with a Cheshire-worthy grin. "Am I a Joxter? Indeed I am, as surely as your boyfriend there is a Mumrik—" What?!

Moomin let out a squeak, and Snufkin blushed slightly, hiding his face behind his hat to cover his eyes. One would expect the reason to have been the sharp teeth The Joxter had on display, but it was actually The Joxter's offhanded comment about being Moomin's boyfriend—not that he wouldn't _like_ to be that. Quite the opposite, in fact.

It was just that he was suddenly reminded of the awful tension the last few nights had brought, and being called Moomin's boyfriend did nothing to help the growing sense of despair that he might not actually get to _be_ Moomin's boyfriend.

"Oh! Do please close your mouth, I am terribly uncomfortable with teeth sometimes," Snufkin looked over in surprise, and smiled gently at Moomin in thanks. Of course he would step in, even if his concern was misplaced. He had known Moomin for less than a season, but in that time, he had never known him to be anything other than unfailingly sweet and kind.

The Joxter frowned, then shrugged. "I don't rightly like being told I can't do something, but I'm also no bully. I'll try to remember, but I make no promises. As to your Pappa, I'm sorry, but I've not known any Moomins personally."

Moomin shrugged. "It was a long shot, but I had to ask."

 

* * *

 

After dinner had concluded, the three sat around the fire as Snufkin and Moomin brought The Joxter up to speed on what they had discovered and experienced so far.

"You ran into the highwayman? That's a pity." He scowled. "He tried to take my hat. My _hat_! The nerve! I told him he better be good with that halberd, because the only way he was getting this hat was from my severed head. He wisely decided that was a fight he wasn't willing to take." He took out a small jar of coffee beans. "Do you two drink coffee? I find it quite relaxing, but I know others don't feel the same,"

"In fact, I do feel the same. That would be lovely. None for Moomin, though. It makes him feel ill as of late." Snufkin and Moomin froze and stared at each other for a moment, but The Joxter continued unawares.

"Did he try to take something important, or just valuable?" The Joxter turned back to face them, having finished putting a small coffee pot by the fire. "No need to share if you don't want to, I'm just curious."

"Important; he took my harmonica. My most treasured belonging, except perhaps _my_ hat. I've had them both since I can recall."

"And Snufkin gave it up to get that _bastard_ to give back something of mine." Snufkin and The Joxter both jumped slightly at the sudden vitriol and the slight growl in his voice. Snufkin remembered not for the first time that, at the end of the day, Moomins _were_ natural predators, weren't they? They had little need for the means nature had provided them these days, but all the same, the means were still there. "Sorry, I just.. You're a good friend, Snuf. I dearly appreciate what you did for me."

"Ah, a good friend indeed." The Joxter nodded sagely, then leveled Moomin with a deadpan expression. "Kid, you don't have to dance around me with the 'my friend' stuff; I'm not gonna kick you out of my campground over something like that." Snufkin's eyes widened, but before he could start to form a response, The Joxter continued. "Lord knows I've had my share of dalliances either way,"

That was _not_ where Snufkin wanted that to go, but it was still better than where it had been going before.

There was a long pause. "Are you _sure_ you don't know my Pappa?" Snufkin was certain he had never been yanked out of a train of thought faster. Why on _earth_ was that Moomin's next question?!

The Joxter laughed. "How refreshing! Someone who doesn't shy away from these sorts of things," Moomin quickly held up a paw.

" _I_ don't, but my friend really does think these are things to be discussed behind closed doors," Snufkin noted that Moomin had deflected again on his behalf and shot Moomin another thankful look; he then wondered for a moment why Moomin would know that particular fact about him, before shaking it off and bringing himself back to the current conversation. "Anyway, we're looking for 'the place all lost things go'; have you ever heard of it?"

When Snufkin looked back to the Joxter, he was staring wide-eyed at Moomin. "Did you say the place where all lost things go? But that's the Forest of Dreams, and.." Realization crossed his face. "Because nothing is ever lost in a dream. Anything that has ever _existed_ can be found in dreams.. but things that are lost are thought of longingly more often than most."

"But how does that help us get Snufkin's memories? And yours, of course. This all sounds very magical, and magic is very peculiar." The Joxter and Snufkin both snorted, then looked at each other.

"Is he always like this?"

"He has a talent for poetic understatement."

The Joxter chuckled, then looked back and continued. "Anyway, that's the trouble. You said it yourself; magic is peculiar. Our best bet is to bring something of equal value to trade, but given how many memories you've lost... That might not be feasible." Moomin looked crushed at the very thought, and so Snufkin quickly cut in to reassure him.

"We'll figure it out, don't you worry, dove." Snufkin froze as Moomin stared, wide eyed. The silence was deafening, the only movement being The Joxter looking between the two in confusion.

"It just slipped out..?" Snufkin chuckled nervously.

The Joxter stood abruptly with a knowing grin. "Well, I can see this conversation will go much smoother if I'm not here." He leaned down and stage whispered into Snufkin's ear as he went by. "Good luck, kid! I'll be in town." Snufkin blushed furiously, hiding his face again.

He heard Moomin's voice from beyond his hat. "Snuf, you.. you called me dove,"

"I know, Moomin, I'm sorry, it just happened, I don't know what came over me, please don't think anything of it," Snufkin rambled frantically for a moment before petering off, and there was a long silence. He really hoped his slip hadn't ruined his chances; while he did dearly hope to one day call Moomin such things he found it quite terrifying to admit that to Moomin himself, especially only having known him for such a short time.

Finally, Moomin responded. "Of course, Snuf. If you say it's nothing," There was an odd hitch in Moomin's voice, but when Snufkin lifted his hat to look he was met by Moomin's usual blinding smile. "then I trust you. What kind of best friend would I be if I didn't take you at your word?"

Oh, how that tore at Snufkin. He knew _he_ was being dishonest, even as Moomin made such grand statements about trust and friendship. But if he told him..

No, he couldn't hide from this. He couldn't lie to Moomin any longer, not like this, not so directly. It was terrifying to admit, yes, but the idea of being so terrible to Moomin..

"Then I must be a horrid friend indeed.." Snufkin resisted the urge to pull his hat over his eyes; as much as he wanted to, he knew Moomintroll deserved better. "I'm afraid I've lied to you; it's.. not nothing. I'm sorry, Moomintroll, I've just been—so happy, lately, with you, and I've run into a rather difficult conflict."

Moomin looked as if he wanted to exclaim that of course that wasn't true, you could never be horrid, Snuf, but he seemed to understand that there was more coming, and so he waited. Snufkin took a deep breath and continued. "I'm starting to wonder if I even want my memories back. What do I need them for? What if.. What if things are different? You're so good to me, and I can tell it makes you so happy; what if I want to _leave_ again?" Snufkin could feel the tears welling up, clouding his vision, but he carried on anyway, determined to finish before they crowded out his voice entirely. "What if.."

Moomin's eyes had widened, and he had begun to cry himself. He always had been so emotional, his Moomintroll. "What if I don't.." Snufkin swallowed hard. "I've fallen so deeply, terribly in love with you, and I can't hide it any longer, it seems. I'm sorry, Moomintroll, you only wanted to be a good friend, a loyal companion, and I've gone and ruined it with all these complicated feelings,"

Moomin was staring openly, eyes wide. "Snufkin, you.. You love me? Truly?"

Snufkin couldn't bear to look at Moomin directly any longer, afraid of finding rejection in those beautiful blue eyes. He stared resolutely at the ground, waiting for whatever may come. "..truly."

He was startled when he felt Moomin collide with him, arms wrapping around him tightly. "Snuf..!" Moomin buried his face into Snufkin's shoulder, nuzzling his neck slightly, and he blushed. "Oh, my Snufkin, my _dear_ ," His face burned as Moomin pulled away to look into his eyes. "I love you too, I've been so worried that I would make you uncomfortable, or pressure you somehow, but you fell in love with me all over again,"

Snufkin was reeling. "Again? Were we..?" He was in love with Moomin before? And Moomin _knew_?

Moomin pressed a kiss to Snufkin's nose with a giggle. "I suppose one could say that." Snufkin was sure he had to be dreaming. "Now are you going to kiss me or not? I've had to restrain myself for a while now and I would quite like to make up for lost time," Dream or no, he wasn't going to pass up a chance like that.

Snufkin gently reached out to cup Moomin's face in his paws. "How could I refuse?" He pulled Moomin closer, then let his eyes slide closed as he finally allowed himself what he had been longing for. A few moments passed in contented silence, the two boys finally able to express the emotions they had been hiding. He pulled away with a smile, moving his paws from where they had come to rest on Moomin's cheeks only to rest them on his waist instead. "How did I ever get so lucky? I've found myself admiring you since the day I arrived, and here I find out that you wanted to kiss me even since then. Far before I was able to admit to myself that I wanted that too."

"You've been admiring me, have you? Was it my suave demeanor, or my dashing good looks? Perhaps my impressive physique?" Moomin threw up his arms in a dramatic pose and grinned—though the effect was somewhat hampered by the need to immediately bring a paw back to cover his mouth again—barely concealing another giggle as he did so.

Snufkin smiled wider at his antics. "Well, I believe my assessment was that you were 'devastatingly beautiful'," Moomin flushed bright red at this. "but your _marvelous_ show of strength that day you offered to carry me the first time certainly didn't hurt,"

Moomin blush darkened further and he groaned. "I knew you would never let that go,"

Snufkin laughed. "While suave or dashing may not have been my descriptor in that particular moment, I have certainly found you quite dashing a number of times over the past weeks." He nuzzled Moomin's nose gently, indulging himself for a moment.

Moomin sighed happily. "This journey is suddenly _much_ more pleasant,"

"I would have to agree, hiding my love for you was rather stifling." He took Moomin's paws in his own. "There were so many times when I found myself wishing desperately to do this," He lifted their joined paws, as he said this. "Or this," Snufkin leaned in to press their lips together in a Mumrik kiss.

He lingered for a moment, and Moomin trailed after him as he pulled away. "Do that again." Snufkin laughed, leaning back in to oblige his boyfriend—were they boyfriends now? Snufkin wasn't sure. "Oh, I missed that; having you so close but yet so far was agony,"

"Aren't we quite the pair? The both of us draping ourselves over each other at every opportunity, marveling all the while at how much the other is willing to 'tolerate'," Moomin began to giggle, nuzzling Snufkin's face again. "When in reality the thing being tolerated was keeping the distance we _did_ keep,"

"Snuf, you charmer!" Moomin looked at Snufkin curiously for a moment. Snufkin was worried he had gone too far, but Moomin's next words quickly dispelled that notion. "Last night.. You weren't distressed at all, were you?" Moomin leaned in with a look in his eyes that Snufkin found utterly entrancing, and he realized with a start that perhaps his dreams of Moomin looking at him with such raw desire hadn't been fabrications after all.

"Er.." Snufkin tried to look away to hide his growing blush, but Moomin took his face in a paw gently.

"Ah, none of that, dear." Snufkin let out a tiny ' _eep!_ ' in surprise as Moomin's claws dug ever so slightly into his hip. "I didn't even consider that you might have felt the same way, but now that I know.."

Snufkin felt his face burning, and the feeling was quickly spreading, consuming his very being. "Now that you know..?"

"Now that I know, when I look back.." Moomin pulled Snufkin flush against his chest, and he was sure that the pounding of his heart could be felt by the both of them. "I realize that sound you made wasn't distress, was it?"

Oh no, he wasn't sure which would be worse for his poor heart: Moomin knowing and being understanding but uninterested, or Moomin knowing and..

He gulped. "No, it.. wasn't."

He thought Moomin's gaze had been intense before, but it was nothing compared to the look he was being given now. "Oh, good," Moomin leaned in close to whisper darkly in his ear, and he shuddered at the feeling of Moomin's breath on his neck. "I was _hoping_ you'd say that, my love."

 

* * *

 

"So. You two get things sorted?" The Joxter smirked at the two over the top of his coffee cup. "I would assume, considering you never came back last night,"

Snufkin blushed, pulling his hat over his eyes, but Moomin just slipped an arm around his waist with a smile, pulling him close. "As sorted as a situation like this can be when one party is missing their memories."

"Were you a package deal before? If you were, then it's about as sorted as it needs to be, in my opinion." The Joxter's expression softened. "Love is a funny thing."

"Indeed it is." Snufkin finally returned to the conversation, though his blush didn't fade. He looked up at Moomin, a gentle, loving smile on his face. "I'm the luckiest Mumrik in the world."

"Snufkin!" Moomin nudged him gently with a shoulder. "You flatterer, how could you know that?" Despite his admonishment, Moomin was grinning from ear to ear, and after a moment he had to bring up a paw to hide his teeth.

"Wait, I thought it was you who had the issue with teeth?" The Joxter cut through their moment, and both boys froze.

"Umm." They looked over to see The Joxter smirking, and Moomin smiled sheepishly. "I lied. I knew he wouldn't want to bring it up,"

Snufkin slipped an arm around Moomin in turn. "Which was still very sweet of you, dove."

Moomin's face burned a bright red, but he stoically carried on. "So I just told you it was me instead."

"I agree with your mate, it was a very sweet gesture." The Joxter smiled, then turned to his coffee pot, refilling his cup. He held the pot out, brows raised. "Snufkin?"

"Coffee would be lovely; thank you." Snufkin separated from Moomin—giving him an affectionate squeeze as he did—and held out a paw for the pot, but The Joxter simply leaned over and filled Snufkin's mug. "Oh, thank you again."

"No trouble, no trouble at all. After all," The Joxter grinned, holding up a paw of his own to hide his teeth, though it did nothing to hide the mischievous look in his eyes. "I have to make sure you'll tolerate me somehow. You may need my insight for now, but what about later on?"

Snufkin fixed him with a serious look. "Even if this doesn't work, we will be eternally grateful that you tried."

The Joxter stared for a moment, then looked away, coughing into a fist. "Well, you know, it benefits me _too_ , and all.."

"Still. Doing a good thing for 'selfish'," Moomin made faux quotes around the word. "reasons is still doing a good thing."

The Joxter was silent for a moment. "You remind _me_ of someone too, and I don't know why. I know I've never met any Moomins for more than a few minutes."

"Perhaps you knew a Moomin but forgot. My memories are gone, and yet I fell in love in three days. Perhaps you're remembering things in a roundabout way, same as I." Snufkin smiled gently. "All that aside, I believe we have business to attend to."

"Indeed. We have places to go, and we need a plan. The Forest of Dreams can be dangerous; at least, from what I've _heard_ it can be dangerous." The Joxter leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "How well can you two handle yourselves if things get dicey?"

Snufkin held up a hand and tilted it side to side. "I'm not particularly strong, but my wits usually get me through."

Moomin picked up a branch—more of a log, if Snufkin were to be honest—from beside The Joxter's campfire, poking at the dirt. "I'm not as clever as Snufkin," Snufkin let out an affronted noise. "I said _as_ clever, dear! I'm not saying I'm not clever at all, I'm just saying that," Moomin took the branch in both paws and snapped it in half seemingly effortlessly. "My strong suit is far more literal."

The Joxter stared openly, his mouth hanging open, and Snufkin hid behind his hat, suddenly all too aware of how much care Moomin must put in to avoid hurting him. He was always so soft and gentle, and here he was breaking a log as big around as Snufkin's fist the way one would snap a toothpick.

Frankly, it was _very_ attractive, and Snufkin wasn't sure how to process that information.

"Wow. Alright. Well," The Joxter gestured to a leather belt hanging from his tent, and Snufkin was surprised to see a sheath hanging from it. "I've picked up some things here and there."

"Ooh, are you like a swashbuckler?!" Moomin jumped up, swiping his paw through the air dramatically. The Joxter laughed, and Snufkin simply smiled.

Stars, he loved that boy.

"No, though you got the dashing rogue part right." The Joxter winked. "I traveled with a theater caravan for a while; they taught me how to stage fight, and then their resident swordsman taught me how to _actually_ fight, should the need arise."

"Why is the blade curved?" Moomin tilted his head.

"I think you might find the answer to that question to be a bit graphic, dove." Snufkin set a paw on Moomin's shoulder and smiled. "You can obviously decide for yourself, I just wanted to warn you."

He shook his head. "You're right, I don't want to know any more about killing people than I have to."

The Joxter looked surprised. "He's a real keeper, there, eh? Most people get all caught up in the fancy of it all and forget that there's really no mystery or romanticism to fighting; just death, and loss. You've got wisdom enough for the three of us, it seems." The Joxter regarded Moomin thoughtfully.

"Let's hope it's enough to get us through in one piece then, eh?" Moomin laughed. "The two of you are missing enough as it is." He grinned, and Snufkin knew he was about to say something—

"Memories _and_ common sense, it would seem," The Joxter gaped, then drew himself up.

"I offer you my campground, and this is the thanks I get? Slander!" Snufkin was struck with that same similarity that plagued Moomin. The Joxter relaxed again. "I'm teasing. I have to be the first to admit that I've been known to be reckless occasionally." 

 

* * *

 

"Alright, I will admit, given the level of resistance we've encountered so far, it feels very silly to be carrying a sword," The Joxter grumbled, tugging his sword free of a wayward branch.

For the thirtieth time exactly, to be precise; Snufkin knew, because he counted. He adopted a dramatic tone. "No opposition in sight, The Joxter was undeterred; if he had to make his own enemies, then so be it."

The Joxter shot him a wry glance. "Thank you for your _stunning_ color commentary, Snufkin." Teasing The Joxter was far more fun than Snufkin had expected it to be; something about him set Snufkin at ease regarding putting his foot in his mouth. He knew where he stood with The Joxter. And by that he meant The Joxter was _absolutely_ going to make fun of him if he did commit a faux-pas, but the total certainty of that outcome combined with their shared supernatural injury took the bite out of the offense.

Moomin giggled, holding up his paws. "Boys, boys, let's not fight! I'd prefer we cart a sword through the forest like a bunch of fools rather than die defenseless like a bunch of fools. We'll be fools either way, may as well take what advantages we can get."

The Joxter stared for a moment. "I see why you were drawn to him. Wisdom beyond his years. Alas, I am but an old man, fated to wander alone,"

"Are you sure that's not just you?" Snufkin wore a shit-eating grin.

"Why, I never!" The Joxter put a hand to his heart. "I thought we were kindred spirits, united in our love of travel, and individuals who are strong enough to throw us with one hand?"

Moomin blushed. "Joxter!" Snufkin simply raised an eyebrow, though he couldn't help but glance over at his boyfriend with a faint blush—boyfriend! Moomin was his boyfriend! Snufkin was quite sure he couldn't be happier.

And The Joxter wasn't _wrong_ , per se..

The Joxter's eyes widened as he realized how that could be taken. "I was just—I just know what I like, alright? I'm not after your beau, I promise." He flushed, turning back towards the center of the forest. "We should keep moving."

 

* * *

 

"I'm starting to think the tales of danger are entirely unfounded," The Joxter grumbled, yanking his scabbard free from yet another scraggly bush.

"Do you think they were made up to keep people out?" Snufkin and The Joxter looked at Moomin, who was making a thoughtful expression. That was.. a very likely explanation, now that Snufkin thought about it.

"..huh. I hadn't considered that before now. Either that, or the danger is in one particular spot that we haven't run across yet." The Joxter shrugged. "Well, like you said, better safe than sorry."

"What on earth is that faint glow?" Moomin pointed ahead, and sure enough, there was a blue-green glow suffusing the trees.

"I just had to open my big mouth." The Joxter sighed.

"Oh, it's just a mist of some sort.. And the plants are that color, too!" The three companions made their way closer, noting the clear boundary of the mist and shift in color; almost as though it were a separate place entirely.

Snufkin took a few steps forward into the faint mist, looking around at the flora around him in wonder. "It seems _all_ the plants here are that strange aquamarine color.."

Suddenly, an unexpected fourth voice rang out. "Ah, my dearest friend; how have you been?" Snufkin turned in surprise to see a strange, willowy figure approaching from the depths of the woods. They were very tall, taller than even the Joxter, and they had an otherworldly loveliness to them—not more lovely than Moomin, mind you—but lovely all the same.

"Well, I suppose I've been worse. I'm terribly sorry about this, but I've lost my memories, and I have no recollection of meeting you." Snufkin shrugged and smiled apologetically.

"Oh, you poor thing! How about you come over for tea, you must have had quite the grand adventure so far!" The figure beckoned to him, and he saw no reason not to trust them, so he began to follow after.

"Wait, Snufkin, what are you _doing_? Don't go with it!" The Joxter cried out, a look of horror on his face.

Snufkin frowned. It? That seemed awfully rude. "Didn't anyone ever teach you it's rude to call someone an it?" There. Justice is served. Snufkin turned back to the mysterious figure. "Sorry about that."

"Oh, I don't mind; it's nice having you come to my defense, even if you don't remember me. You always have been so kind." The figure smiled, and any lingering unease Snufkin may have had dissipated. He began to follow deeper into the forest a second time, when he heard a voice call for him yet again.

"Snufkin, wait! You're going the wrong way!" Snufkin turned to see that Moomin was pointing the way he had come, behind his other companion. Joxter was looking at Moomin strangely, but Snufkin wasn't particularly concerned with his opinion after his earlier outburst.

"But this fellow said it was this way," Snufkin tilted his head curiously.

"It is, he doesn't know what he's talking about. Come with me, Snufkin." The figure had turned to face them, and seemed to be staring Moomin down.

"Come now, Snuf, have I ever steered you wrong before? Don't you trust me?" He began to pout, his lower lip quivering. "I thought we had each other's backs, no matter what." Tears began to well up, and his voice trembled. "I thought you loved me."

Snufkin's eyes widened in horror, and his feet carried him towards Moomin without a second thought. Making his love cry wasn't worth it, no matter how close he may have been to this other fellow. "I do! More than anything in the world, I promise!"

"Wait, where are you going? I thought we were friends!" The figure started to sound worried, but Snufkin waved them off.

"You'll have to forgive me, but if my Moomin says it's this way, I believe him." He turned back and kept walking towards Moomin. "I'm so sorry, dove; I promise I trust you, really I—" He crossed back over the boundary of that peculiar aquamarine portion of the forest, and stopped dead in his tracks. "Stars." He looked at Moomin in horror. "I just almost died. You saved my life."

"Oh, Snufkin, I was so worried I'd lost you forever!" Moomin grabbed his paw and yanked him into a crushing hug, sobbing openly into his shoulder. "I just got you back and, and—"

Snufkin looked back, and his eyes widened at the sight before him. An eight foot tall, gnarled, bestial.. humanoid? Stood at the edge of the mysterious part of the forest. Its long, goat-like head was near-featureless, except for two sunken eyes sockets lit by pinpricks of blue-green light, the same as the forest around it. It spoke again, but its voice was nothing like before; now it was a dark sound, _growling_ , and just as otherworldly as the forest it resided in. "You may have lived this time, mortal, but next time you won't be so lucky. Many have tried to enter The Dreamwoods, but few indeed have ever left. I suggest you go back where you came from while you are part of the latter category."

Moomin let go of Snufkin finally, and stepped between them. "We're doing threats, are we? Then listen closely; I don't know who or what you are, but if you threaten my Snufkin again," Moomin growled, and Snufkin was shocked when he flexed his fingers to reveal his claws—surprisingly sharp, as always. "there won't be a seamstress in the world who could stitch you back together." Snufkin felt his face flush; despite the terrifying circumstances, he still found himself in awe of Moomin's bravery and devotion.

The creature regarded Moomin for a moment silently. "Perhaps you do have what it takes to make it out alive. Your fury is not for yourself, but for another, for love. Very well." Suddenly, the beast turned into that tall willowy figure from before. "Be warned: The Dreamwoods will try to twist your mind into believing that things make sense the way they do in your dreams. Logic and reason have no place here. If you wish to survive, I would suggest making a bargain with a denizen of this place." It smirked. "I would, of course, be happy to provide such an opportunity."

"Shove it up your ass." The Joxter spoke up finally, and Snufkin snorted. "Do you seriously expect us to trust you after that little kidnapping attempt of yours?"

The figure gave a pleased smile. "Oh, I _like_ you three; you very well may have what it takes, and it's been so terribly long since any _worthwhile_ mortals dropped by. You are right to not trust me, but most would see a possible solution to a seemingly insurmountable problem, and decide to take their chances. I will take my leave now; however, in exchange for the entertainment you have provided, I will tell you of the rules that all Fae must follow."

Snufkin's eyes widened, and he looked to the other two. The Joxter was equally alarmed, but Moomin was simply confused. Snufkin looked back to the fae. "I'm listening."

"One: A Fae must honor any and all deals or agreements they make to the letter. Two: Nothing may be taken for free. Three: A Fae may not harm a mortal unprovoked outside of The Dreamwoods. Four: A Fae must speak only the truth." The figure turned to leave.

"But you said Snufkin was your dearest friend, that's not true at all!" Moomin shouted after the retreating form, and to everyone's surprise, the fae laughed and turned back around.

"Very clever. You're half right; I simply considered him as such in that moment. I never said I was _his_ friend, only that he was mine. Nothing I said was untrue, but it was all certainly misleading." There was a pause as they seemingly considered something. "Four: A Fae may not lie outright, and an answer given three times is the indisputable truth."

"Very well. Thank—" Moomin was cut off as Snufkin clapped a paw over his mouth.

"Your advice is noted and appreciated." Snufkin looked at the figure evenly, and they nodded approvingly.

"You may survive yet. Seek the one known by your kind as Cheshire; he is likely to be sympathetic to your plight." The figure turned back around, but before he left, Snufkin spoke up again.

"Is all that you have told us the truth?" Snufkin's voice was calm.

"It is." The fae did not turn around.

"Is all that you have told us the truth?" Snufkin asked again, his tone exactly the same.

"It is." The fae still did not turn.

"Is all that you have told us the truth?" Snufkin asked a third time, and finally the figure turned, scowling.

"No. He will be sympathetic, yes, but the one you mortals call Cheshire is one of the most skilled deceivers and manipulators in all of The Dreamwoods. Striking a bargain with him will be a daunting task indeed." They turned away one last time, then passed behind a thin tree, only to disappear entirely.

"Where did it go??" The Joxter was staring, open mouthed. "..We've really gotten ourselves into it now, haven't we?"

"We have, but we have far more information than we expected. Admittedly it's also far more than we expected to need, but better to know we need it than not." Snufkin shuddered and turned to Moomin, resting his forehead on his friend's shoulder. "I say we make camp here and start fresh in the morning. If he was lying about the truth and threes, he would have had no need to admit he was deceiving us regarding Cheshire. Unless it goes deep enough that he's relying on us thinking that.."

"But can _we_ rely on that not being the case?" Moomin frowned, absentmindedly playing with Snufkin's hair.

"We can't; but if it's a lie that complex we could be here all year asking all the what-if questions. I agree with Snufkin, I don't want to stop in that place any longer than we have to. If we camp here and leave first thing in the morning, we'll have the most time to get what we came for and leave. Best case scenario, we can do it in one day." The Joxter cast his gaze around a bit. "All the same, if we could find a hollow tree or hollow in the forest floor, that would be ideal.."

"We also need to figure out how we're going to avoid falling prey to the magic of The Dreamwoods." Moomin set a paw to his chin. "That was rather terrifying, and might be difficult to overcome.."

"Well, why don't we just write little notes for ourselves? We can each pick a password, and write the others' down, along with the message 'anyone who cannot tell you their password is not to be trusted under any circumstances'? We would have to go in one at a time, but given the nature of this place I'm not sure what good it would do us to do otherwise." Moomin picked Snufkin up, twirling him around, and he couldn't help but giggle. "Oh! Moomin, what's gotten into you?"

"Oh, you're just so clever! That's a lovely idea, Snuf! I'll have my password be 'Oshun Oxtra'; it's not something one could guess, as it relates to my Pappa, who isn't even here." Moomin put Snufkin down, giving him a quick peck on the nose.

"Along those lines, I think mine would have to be 'Harmonica'." Moomin's expression fell, and Snufkin gently set a paw to his cheek. "Now, now, dove; we've been over this. Don't blame yourself. I have no regrets, especially now that I have you."

"I'll just use 'Enigma'; it's the best I've got considering how many memories I seem to be missing." The Joxter nodded to himself, and the others nodded along.

"That's a good choice! It's a very uncommon word, but it fits!" Moomin smiled, then suddenly leaned to the side, pointing. "Oh! There, there's a little hollow at the base of that tree over there; we can camp there for the night and be out of the wind!"

"I can always count on you, can't I, dove?" Snufkin smiled, pulling Moomin close—or, really just pulling _himself_ to Moomin, as he weighed significantly more—burying his face in his chest.

He squeaked when Moomin scooped him up bridal style once again. "Of course you can. But if you're going to snuggle up to me I'll just have to carry you; it's rather crucial we get moving, wouldn't you agree, Joxter?"

The Joxter laughed heartily. "You two are perfect for each other, I swear I feel years younger just seeing you two love each other so dearly."

Moomin beamed, and Snufkin found himself grinning along despite the absurdity of the situation. "I certainly think so,"

Moomin held Snufkin a little tighter, blushing. "Oh, you two are just too much!"


	7. A Change In Perception

Moomin stood slowly, a frown on his face. Snufkin should have been back by now; they had agreed that he should go first, since he had experienced the Dreamcurse once already. The Joxter had coined the term, and they had decided that it was a fitting name, so it stuck.

But he was getting sidetracked. Snufkin was supposed to see if he could find this Cheshire character, then come back and they would skirt around to take the shortest path in order to avoid exposure to the Dreamcurse as much as possible. He hummed in thought. "Joxter? Do you think I should go in after him?"

The Joxter was silent a moment, and Moomin thought—not for the first time—that he really was similar to Snufkin in many ways. They both took their time to think through their responses, unlike him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and while it made him rather guileless at times, he felt no need to change that. "As much as I'd rather put myself in harm's way instead of you, if he's been ensnared by yet another fae's charm you have the best chance at convincing him to leave."

"I'll be careful. And if I'm not back in a few hours or so, then I guess you can come after both of us."

The Joxter thumbed the hilt of his sword grimly. "I'd rather it not come to that, but if it does, you can count on me. I may be a depressed old man," Moomin snorted at this, and The Joxter's grim expression lightened for a brief moment. "But I'm not letting anything happen to you two on my watch. You've found something beautiful in each other, and that's worth more than gold. I don't need to ask you to cherish each other, it's obvious you already do."

Moomin blushed, looking away into The Dreamwoods. "I do, so very much." He set his jaw and nodded to himself, gathering his courage. "Time to save Snufkin. _My_ Snufkin."

Moomin took a hesitant step forward, then another, and as he crossed the boundary into the mist, he felt a sort of heaviness settle over his thoughts.

He found himself wondering what he had been thinking about. What was heavy? His pack certainly wasn't; he must simply have gotten distracted. Oh well. Snufkin probably wasn't too far, he always knew what to do.

He began to stroll casually through the forest, marveling at the faint glow suffusing the canopy without a care in the world. After a while longer he began to notice small floating motes of light, the same blue-green as—

 _Fairy_ lights, he realized with a start. This was how fairy lights got their name, wasn't it?

But that was beside the point. He needed to find Snufkin. He set off again—when had he even stopped?—doing his best to remain focused.

It would help if he had any idea at all of where he should be going. He realized with a start that he was carrying a letter of some kind, or a note; why wasn't it in his bag? He unfolded it.

_Absolutely DO NOT trust anyone who cannot provide their password, under any circumstances. Do not let on that this note exists._

_Snufkin: Harmonica_

_Joxter: Enigma_

Well. That was certainly his handwriting, and he remembered now that his own password was Oshun Oxtra—from his Pappa's stories. He folded it and put it in his satchel, then pulled a piece of twine from his bag and tied it around his forefinger. There. It was slightly itchy, and the end brushed against his thumb occasionally; exactly the sort of thing he needed to remember that there _was_ something to remember without giving anything away about what it was.

Now.. where was he going, again? Right, looking for Snufkin. Or at least, if that hadn't been what he was doing, it was always a safe bet. He set off again, picking his way through the forest undergrowth, which seemed to be growing thicker—and pricklier, much to his chagrin—by the minute. He protracted his claws to slash his way through a particularly troublesome bramble patch, then paused as he saw the twine around his finger.

Right. This was fae territory. He should probably try to keep damage to a minimum, shouldn't he? He sighed in resignation, letting his claws return to their usual resting position. He would have to go around. He began to skirt around the mess of thorns, but much to his consternation, they seemed to go on forever!

He continued, but after a minute or so he began to suspect something was afoot. Was he being corralled? Were the brambles a sort of barrier? Should he cut through them anyway? As he grew more and more frustrated, the Dreamcurse wormed its way into his mind, twisting thought and reason the way only dreams can. He snarled; enough was enough. As he thought this, turning to slash his way through anyway, he saw a small patch where someone had seemingly done just that; there was a series of neat cuts making a path all the way to the other side.

Oh. Well, now he just felt silly.

The person who had done it had clearly taken care to minimize the damage, but the gap was just barely too small for him to squeeze through without the thorns catching and tearing at his fur and skin. He thought for a moment, then took out a heavy blanket from his bag, wrapping it around his shoulders like a cloak. He steeled himself, gripping it tightly. He didn't want to do any additional damage, and this was the only solution he could think of. Before he could lose his nerve, he dashed through the gap. He felt the thorns catch and pull at the blanket; fortunately, he only felt a few small pinpricks on his skin.

He removed his impromptu armor, folding it neatly before putting it away. It never hurt to be prepared, after all, and a messy bag was much harder to navigate quickly. Snufkin had taught him that, he was sure of it.

Pleased with himself for being so forward thinking, he stood and looked around. This part of the forest was.. different, somehow.

..The color. The brambles had been a barrier of sorts, or a boundary; the glow in this part of The Dreamwoods was more of a blue-purple, rather than a blue-green. Violet, his mind supplied. He also noticed that the haze over his mind had cleared somewhat, though he had no intention of letting his guard down.

It could very well be a trap to lull him into complacency.

He walked forward cautiously, even as a part of him chuckled at his uncharacteristic paranoia. Although... was it really paranoia if there really was someone out to get you? There was no way to know if this was the domain of one fae in particular, or—

"Well, well! Look who came in the polite way! Not at all like that last one; he cut a hole through my hedge. Terribly rude."

Moomin whipped around to face the direction the voice had come from, only to find that there was nothing out of the ordinary—insofar as anything in this place could be considered _ordinary_. He frowned, preparing himself to run if he had to. "Is that so? And who might you be?"

"I'm known by many names; The Trickster. Reynard. Bacchus. But you mostly likely know me.." Suddenly, as though it had been there all along, there was a very large, feline creature curled up on a branch just above eye level. "As Cheshire."

Moomin blinked. He was sure it—he?—hadn't been there only moments earlier, as it was hardly more than ten feet away; surely he would have noticed... right? "You're—you're an actual cat. I.. hadn't expected that. I thought the cat thing was a metaphor."

Cheshire laughed, the sound seeming to echo around the grove and through Moomin's mind, and he was suddenly struck by the knowledge that he was face to face with a being far greater than he. Magic was far beyond his understanding, let alone his _use_ ; to Cheshire, on the other hand.. magic was as simple as breathing.

He jumped down, his form shifting as he fell. Moomin blinked again as he found himself face to face with a creature strikingly similar to a Mumrik, but still very obviously.. otherworldly. "I prefer being a cat, but I can be whatever I please. A Moomin like yourself, for example."

His form changed again to exactly that—and a rather handsome one, too, though he wasn't as handsome as Snufkin. Moomin raised his brows. "That's quite the ability."

"I would be inclined to agree. So," Cheshire turned back into his Mumrik-esque form. "What brings you to my little neck of the woods?" He giggled at his own joke, which Moomin found to be in slightly poor taste.

He decided it would be unwise to point it out. "I'm looking for someone. A Mumrik, wearing a green hat and tunic."

"Oh dear, that sounds an awful lot like that rude fellow from earlier.. what was his name again?" Cheshire grinned. "Snufkin, I believe he said."

Moomin's eyes narrowed. "What did you do to him?"

"We made a deal, of course. What else is a fae to do? It's in our very nature." Cheshire leaned back, and Moomin thought for a moment that he would simply fall over, but the fall never came. He simply leaned back, tucking his hands behind his head as if reclining on a couch, not floating above the ground.

Moomin crossed his arms. He was impressed, he couldn't lie, but he wasn't about to let _him_ know that. "And that deal was..?"

"Ah, ah, not so fast." Cheshire's grin grew wider, almost gleeful. "Nothing is free in The Dreamwoods, surely you must know that."

Moomin let out a sharp breath of frustration through his nose. "Fine then; what would you ask of me in return for that information?"

"I have a spell I'm rather fond of; it lets me live out a memory of another." Cheshire made a sweeping gesture with one hand as he said this, and for the life of him, Moomin couldn't figure out what those things had in common. "There a few conditions; it always picks a very significant memory, and the individual in question must allow it. It won't work if they don't want it to."

Well, that didn't sound _too_ bad.. "..go on."

Cheshire beamed. "I wish to cast this spell on you. I enjoy watching the significant events in the lives of mortals; when you've been alive as long as I have, you get tired of the same old forest, and tales just aren't the same. Memories are so much more.. _visceral_."

"So if I agree to have this spell cast on me, you'll tell me the deal you made with Snufkin?" Moomin raised an eyebrow. "That seems like a very poor trade to me."

Cheshire clapped his hands together in delight, the grin never leaving his face. "Oh, I do love mortals who aren't entirely incompetent. Very astute; it is a poor trade. What _would_ you have me offer?"

"Tell me where one would need to go to recover lost memories, and how to get there."

Cheshire's eyes widened, and finally his grin faded to an expression of understanding. "Ah, so _you're_ his companion.." He thought a moment. "I believe that would be acceptable. I accept the terms of this agreement. Do you?"

Moomin nodded once. This was a reckless decision, but he couldn't see a better way, and if it paid off he would have everything he needed to know. "I do; on the condition that you tell me up front."

Cheshire laughed again. "Excellent, you really are a cut above the rest! Very well! The place you seek is known as The Dreamheart. It is the place where dreams become real—or where reality fades into a dream. It's difficult to explain in a way that a mortal can understand. You're just so.. _limited_ in your ability to see things as they truly are. As for getting there; one need only will themselves to be there, and start walking. Within the hour, you'll find it."

And before he could do more than blink, everything faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Everything was set for the reception; the tables were laden with all sorts of wonderful food, there were casks of wine and decorations abound, and Moomin couldn't be happier. How could he not be? This was the largest wedding Moominvalley had seen in years—decades, even.

He found his mind wandering to his best friend. His Snufkin. He still could hardly believe it; he'd spent years longing, and it turned out Snufkin had felt the exact same way.

He shook himself back to the present, smiling to himself and walking around, laughing and conversing with the other guests. He was having a wonderful time, but something was gnawing at the back of his mind. Where was Snufkin? He asked Sniff, but he was more concerned with the food, and The Snork hadn't seen him either.

Moominpappa shook his head, but gave him a great big hug anyway, speaking softly into his ear about how _proud_ he was, and that Moomin better hang on to that boy now, hear? He didn't put up with their hopeless pining for years for nothing, you know. Moomin blushed furiously, though he smiled anyway.

Moominmamma didn't know either, simply smiling at him through her tears, embracing him warmly and congratulating him on finding someone who was seemingly made for him.

Little My scrambled up into his shoulder, poking him in the cheek and warning him to be good to her brother; Moomin laughed at her behavior, so typical for Little My, but she soon relented, and—with uncharacteristic softness—wished the two of them the best.

She jumped down, presumably to go cause trouble somewhere else, and moments later he found himself face to face with Snorkmaiden, who had her arm looped through Alicia's. He teased her, saying that perhaps she was angling to catch the bouquet, eh Floren? Alicia laughed as Snorkmaiden spluttered, her fur turning a lovely shade of pink.

Heart on her sleeve, indeed. The only one he knew who did so more than he did, in fact.

Finally, he ran across Too-Ticky and The Mymble's Daughter—and weren't they just the cutest couple, he had been so happy for them when they had gotten married a few years prior—and asked if _they_ had seen his Snufkin.

Too-Ticky pointed over at the forest, saying another guest had claimed to have seen him leaving; he must have needed a moment away from the crowds. Moomin nodded understandingly, then carried on, finally satisfied at having found the answer.

But something still felt odd.. why didn't she say who told her? It's not like this was that large of a gathering, everyone knew everyone here in the valley. He thought for a moment, setting a paw to his chin. There was a faint scratching sensation on the side of his snout, and he pulled his paw away to find that someone had apparently tied a piece of twine around his.. finger...

Why did that seem so familiar? Why..

...This was wrong. This didn't happen this way, Moomin knew better, there _weren't_ any guests that weren't from the valley. He wrote the guest list himself!

And just like that, it all came rushing back. Cheshire. The spell.

 _Snufkin_.

His mind began to race; Cheshire must have cast the same spell on him, too. Moomin cursed internally for not prying further about the details of the spell. There was no way to know how long it would last; Cheshire had implied it was just the one memory, but it may go further than that—

Moomin stilled as he was struck by a horrible thought. What if..

What if this wasn't the first time he'd done this? What if it looped back, forcing him to forget every time, trapping him in an endless cycle of remembering and forgetting? He could have relived this hundreds of times and he would never know. If that was the case, then.. what if that had happened to Snufkin too?

Moomin wasn't sure how he knew, but he was sure Snufkin needed him. He needed saving, and while he normally abhorred violence..

To save his Snufkin, he would even go so far as to tear Cheshire limb from limb if he had to. _No one_ was more important than Snufkin. He growled softly to himself, careful not to let down his outwardly cheery facade. He needed to keep calm. This wasn't a fair fight, not even close, and if he wanted to get himself and Snufkin out of this alive, it was going to take every ounce of cunning he had in him. He cursed to himself; Snufkin was the more cunning of the two of them, but he wasn't here.

He was on his own.

But he had an advantage; Cheshire likely didn't know he remembered. He had to play this smart, strike when it wasn't expected, when he had an opportunity. He may not be as cunning as Snufkin, or as experienced as The Joxter, but he was _likable_. That was his true strength, though his raw physical strength was close behind. If he could talk his way into getting close..

That _bastard_ wouldn't stand a chance.

Magic or no, a broken neck is a broken neck; there were few things that could withstand the full strength a Moomin could bring to bear. Unless Cheshire was invulnerable somehow, of course, but if that was the case he was done for no matter what he did. No, he had to play to his strengths.

"Ah, Moomin!" Speak of the devil.. Calm. Stay calm, Moomin. Don't tip your hand.

Not yet. Not until the time was right.

He turned to face the newcomer and smiled warmly, holding out a paw to shake the hand of the creature who had trapped him here. "Oh, Cheshire, I'm so glad you could make it!"

"Ah, it's truly my pleasure, it's not often one gets to attend an event such as this," The Cheshire smiled back, and now that he knew firsthand just how deep the fae's devious streak ran, Moomin was struck by how utterly terrifying a true 'Cheshire grin' was—and why the saying had caught on. "Though I deeply regret not being able to attend the ceremony, I'm glad I was at least able to make the reception to give my warmest congratulations to the happy couple. I'm surprised you're not with your other half; is he alright?"

You two-faced son of a bitch. Just you wait; you'll get yours. He would make sure of it.

"Well, he needs a bit of time to himself sometimes, but soon he'll be back, and you can ask him yourself!" Now, was there was an illusion of Snufkin, too, or..

"He seemed rather disquieted; I wasn't going to hold my breath. I do so understand needing time to one's self." So he couldn't—or wouldn't—create a false Snufkin. Interesting. Well, at least Moomin knew he wouldn't need to worry about Cheshire using Snufkin against him. The narrative Cheshire was following seemed to be that he had seen Snufkin leave, and was worried? He could work with that.

"That's understandable." Wait.. the fae can't lie, can they? He might be able to use this as a chance to gather information, if he was careful. "Well, in any case, let's catch up; it's been so terribly long, after all. Where have you been lately? I heard you moved, yes? Where do you live now?"

"Oh," Cheshire waved a hand airily. "I've been around, you know how it is. I moved into a lovely forest home, actually." That was about what Moomin had expected, but it confirmed that this place didn't free Cheshire from the rules he was normally beholden to.

"How lovely! No park keepers, I would hope." Moomin chuckled. "Though I suppose authority goes farther than just park keepers. Are there any nearby towns, or are you back to your roots, living off the land?"

"I mostly keep to myself, you know how it is. Back to my roots, indeed." Cheshire seemed to be growing wary having clearly dodged the question, but Moomin decided to push his luck a bit.

"I certainly do; Moominvalley is the only settlement around on this side of the mountains, which means we have to provide for ourselves." Moomin gave an airy chuckle. "But listen to me prattle on, of course you knew that; you traveled all the way here just to make it to my wedding, after all! But what about your new home? You never mentioned if there were any other people nearby; who's in charge in your little corner of the world?" This was going to have to be his last topic of questioning, otherwise Cheshire would figure him out, if he hadn't already.

Though he supposed if he had he would probably already be dead, or reset back to the start of the loop, if that was what was going on here—this was pointless. Magic is magic and he had no way to know. Don't overthink, just watch. Wait for his chance.

There was a pause, then Cheshire spoke carefully. "The one in charge in my area simply goes by Oberon."

"Ooh, what an interesting name! Is he a foreigner?" Was he the fae they were after?

"..no. Not exactly." Bingo. Someone who was powerful enough to make even Cheshire wary of saying too much was powerful indeed. Powerful enough to, say.. restore a person's memories, perhaps.

"Not.. exactly? I thought one either _was_ a foreigner or _wasn't_ ,"

"Oberon lives in the middle of the forest. They're also not a fan of gossip, so I should stop speaking of them behind their back." It seemed that was as much info as Moomin was going to get.

"That's understandable; it's good that you can respect the wishes of others." Moomin gave him a smile that was not at all friendly, if you knew him—but Cheshire was blind to the warning signs. He had underestimated Moomin, and Moomin was going to take full advantage of that fact. "Give me a hug, old friend, then I really must be going. Always something to do; you know how it is." He knew what he needed to know, and he had an opportunity. Do or die.

Cheshire seemed hesitant, and for a moment Moomin worried he had given himself away, but then he held out his arms. He must have decided to go along with it to preserve the illusion, Moomin thought.

Big mistake.

Moomin stepped forward, the smile never leaving his face. He saw Cheshire's posture relax. Quick as a flash, Moomin threw an arm around Cheshire's middle and across his back, sinking his claws into the opposite shoulder. Only a split second later, before anyone had a chance to react, Moomin kicked Cheshire's feet out from under him, dropping to one knee himself.

As they fell, he pulled Cheshire towards him, hooking his other arm around Cheshire's neck. He had Cheshire trapped, laid across one knee with his neck trapped under Moomin's armpit. All Moomin needed to do was just twist a _little_ bit..

But he had to keep his anger in check. He still needed information, and he still needed to know what had happened to his husband.

The other guests reacted with varying degrees of shock and outrage, but Moomin paid them no mind. He had one thing on his mind, and that thing was _vengeance_.

"Moomin! What's gotten into you?!" Snorkmaiden was the first to speak up, but he was already used to dodging her seemingly constant teasing; this was nothing he couldn't handle.

"My word! Such violent behavior!" Mrs. Fillyjonk's response was both predictable, and ignorable.

She was like that all the time anyway, he could ignore her on a normal day, let alone when his husband's life was on the line.

"Moomin, you unhand that man right this instant! I did _not_ raise you to behave in such a manner!" His mother was the most difficult to ignore, but as he began to feel the guilt creeping up, a fourth voice called out.

"Moomin, what is _wrong_ with you?!" He felt his resolve return with a fury unrivaled by anyone he knew; save for the owner of the voice. Little My would _always_ choose the side of mayhem.

And with that one mistake on the part of Cheshire, his doubts and guilt were dispelled. This wasn't real, and he was going to _make_ Cheshire give back what he had taken: His Snufkin.

A low rumbling growl was felt more than heard as Moomin fought to maintain his composure. "Alright Cheshire, you've had your fun. Here's how this is going to go; you're going to free Snufkin, and grant him, The Joxter, and I safe passage to The Dreamheart. In return, I _won't_ tear your head from your shoulders."

He heard Cheshire snort derisively. "What makes you think you have any power over me? I could end your pathetic existence in seconds; you can't _possibly_ expect to survive this little plan of yours. That being said, I respect your moxy; it's been a long time since someone saw through the illusion. If you let go now, I'll let you live. Cat's honor."

Moomin let out a single bark of laughter, the sound devoid of any humor. "See, you missed an important detail: I don't _expect_ to survive. I'm going to rescue Snufkin or die trying, and if _I_ die here.."

He tightened his grip suddenly on Cheshire's neck and shoulder, and his voice dropped to a quiet, menacing hiss. " _I'm taking you with me_."

"Ghrk!" Moomin relaxed his grip _just_ enough to let Cheshire talk, though his claws still dug painfully into the flesh of his shoulder, hardly an inch shy of his neck. "Alright, alright; stars, I always forget how crazy you mortals get about your mates,"

The illusion around them faded away, melting back into the mist that permeated The Dreamwoods. The appalled voices of the wedding guests slowly ebbed away as well, until all that was left was the sound of the wind through the trees. "There; now let me go!"

Moomin scoffed, unmoving. "Nice try; I want your word that you will return Snufkin to me, unharmed and in the condition he was immediately before you first saw him on this visit; that my companions and I are to be granted passage to The Dreamheart unmolested; and that the creature you return to me is indeed the real Snufkin, and not an impostor. All of these terms are to be fulfilled upon the conclusion of this discussion, and the discussion is to be considered concluded when I say it is. You will swear all this three times, and if you don't, I _will_ kill you without a shred of remorse or hesitation."

There was a silence that seemed to last an eternity, but finally Cheshire spoke. "Damn, kid. I'm impressed; I haven't gotten the short end of a bargain in a long, long time. Fine. I agree to your terms; this, I swear to be true. This, I swear to be true. This, I swear to be true." There was a rush of wind as though the forest itself had acknowledged their deal.

Who knows; in a place like this? It wouldn't be surprising.

Moomin let go immediately, even going so far as to help Cheshire back to his feet. The deal had been struck; no sense being rude if he didn't need to be, as much as he might want to. On a more practical note, he didn't know if harming Cheshire would count as violating their deal, and he knew far too little about this place to take any chances. "Good. Discussion over. Snufkin?"

"Right there." Cheshire pointed at a nearby tree, at a figure sitting with their back to the trunk and their head down. There was no mistaking the hat, but..

Moomin narrowed his eyes. "I said as he was before."

Cheshire made an exasperated gesture. "Even I can't reverse _time_! I ended the spell, but that doesn't just automatically wake him up."

This could be bad; he hadn't considered the possibility that Snufkin might need yet _another_ magical ailment cured. Moomin stopped himself before he could get too worked up. No sense jumping to conclusions.

He managed to do it once, perhaps he could get some information a second time. "What do I have to do to wake him up?"

Cheshire looked at him strangely for a second, then slowly grinned his signature grin. "What do you need to do indeed? What's it worth to you?"

"No need; you just told me." Moomin winked, relishing the look of shock and defeat on Cheshire's face. "Don't think I didn't notice how the question caught you off guard. He's just asleep. There's no secret; I just go wake him up. That being said, I'm going to go do that now. Goodbye."

He dashed over to where Snufkin was slumped at the base of a tree. "Snufkin! Snufkin, it's me, Moomin!"

Snufkin groaned, opening his eyes and looking around in confusion; only to narrow them again moments later. "What's the password?" Moomin smiled gently, taking his paw.

"Mine is Oshun Oxtra." He picked Snufkin up bridal style, and he yelped in surprise.

"Don't you want to hear mine? What if I was an impostor?"

"You can't be; Cheshire swore it thrice that you were the real you. He also promised us and The Joxter passage to The Dreamheart." He kissed Snufkin's cheek, giggling at the faint blush that followed in its wake. "Now; let's get your memories back, my love."

Snufkin stared at him openly. "You outwitted _Cheshire_? Oh, if I wasn't in love with you before,"

Moomin blushed. "Oh, stop it! You would have done the same for me."

"Yes, but as you undoubtedly noticed, my negotiation left quite a bit to be desired. And you say _I'm_ the clever one,"

 

* * *

 

"Get out of my way." The Joxter's eyes narrowed, and he lowered his center of gravity ever so slightly.

The fae—and it was certainly a fae, though it took the shape of Moomin—laughed. "Very funny, Joxter. Come on, we should get going."

"What's the password?" The Joxter's hand drifted to his scabbard, thumb brushing the hilt as he prepared himself to do what was necessary, should it come to it.

"Come again?" Moomin—no, _not_ Moomin, not until he could prove it—looked puzzled.

"I said, what's the password?" The Joxter let his muscles relax, preparing himself to strike, should the fae make any sudden moves.

"Now you're just being silly, Joxter." Not-Moomin crossed his arms with a stern expression. Perhaps he _was_ being a bit hasty—

No. The Dreamcurse was making him let his guard down. He was going to get Snufkin and Moomin out of this alive. He pushed up on the hilt with his thumb, exposing a finger's width of the blade and preparing himself for what was quickly shaping up to be an imminent confrontation. "Password. Last chance." He steeled himself; should it come to it, he was going to make _sure_ they got out alive.

Even if he didn't.

"Last chance?" The fae scoffed, the facade finally giving way, though the fae's form remained the same. "Or what? Do you really think you could hurt me in this form? I know how attached you've become to the boy."

"You're right." The fae looked surprised as The Joxter turned away. "I _have_ grown to care for the boy." He took a half step, then bent his knees a little farther.

Only moments later, there was a ringing flash of steel, followed by a strangled exclamation. The fae stood frozen, The Joxter's blade leveled a mere hair's breadth from their throat. The Joxter spoke up again. "Which is why I know you're not him. And if you know him, you've seen him. Take me to him—directly, mind—or die where you stand."

The fae glared back at him, unmoving. "Do it, then. I'm not afraid of you. I refuse to be cowed into submission. Other fae beg and plead, too afraid of losing their eternity." They turned their head and spat on the ground in disgust. "Cowards. I refuse to sacrifice my dignity by grovelling at the feet of some _mortal_."

The Joxter sighed. "I suppose can respect that. It's a shame; in better circumstances, I think perhaps we could have been friends. Some advice before I go, if I may: While your sense of honor and dignity may be admirable," The Joxter flicked his wrist once, then twice. The blade slid home into its sheath with a click.

The fae hit the ground, lifeless. "But your sense of self-preservation could use some work."

He stood for a long moment, looking down at the monster, for he had no better name for it. It was a sinuous thing, all long limbs and angles; a far cry from its previous form. He made a mental note that its throat was slashed in its true form too; not an illusion, then, but actual shapeshifting. Good thing they prepared the passwords, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to tell otherwise.

The Joxter continued to look sadly down at the corpse in front of him. Victory was always triumphant in the tales folks told; The Joxter couldn't see it. He didn't feel like a hero, or even a proud warrior.

He just felt like a murderer. Had he always been this ruthless?

..would Moomin and Snufkin think less of him if they knew what he was capable of? If they knew he could kill without hesitation?

He shook his head. He could feel sorry for himself later. He would deal with all that when the time came. For now, he needed to find Snufkin and Moomin.

 

* * *

 

Moomin kissed Snufkin's cheek again, eliciting a giggle. "What's gotten into you, dove?"

Oh, just happy to have his husband back, even though Snufkin didn't remember that little fact. "I'm happy to have you back. For a little while there I was worried we'd both be trapped forever." But he couldn't just _tell_ him that; they had only just gotten back together, he didn't want to scare Snufkin away by moving too fast.

Snufkin's expression fell, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry.. I should have known better, I should have been more careful—"

Oh, not this again. When will he learn that not everything is his fault? "Hush, dear. Don't you go blaming yourself for this; I only escaped because I remembered that the memory was wrong, and I only remembered that because I'd tied this string around my finger. You lost your memories; how could you have noticed that it wasn't quite right?"

"I shouldn't have fallen for it in the first place!" Snufkin stared resolutely downward.

Moomin raised an eyebrow. "Why not? I did. You may be clever, dear, but no one is perfect. It's no shame to fall for a trick from Cheshire of all creatures. His name is associated with tricksters for a reason; it would be fair to say that he's the _archetypal_ trickster."

Snufkin sighed heavily. "I suppose you're right, as always. Wisdom enough for the three of us indeed." Something caught his eye, and he pointed over Moomin's shoulder. "Speaking of, is that..?"

The two looked over to see what looked like The Joxter, striding through the trees with a grim expression. Moomin smiled, walking over to him. "Joxter!"

The Joxter's head snapped around, and his eyes widened slightly, before narrowing again. "Password."

"Oshun Oxtra." "Harmonica." The two spoke together, then cast quick glances at each other with a small giggle.

The Joxter sighed in relief. "Enigma. I'm glad you're alright. You were gone a long while, Moomin. Nearly half a day."

Moomin's eyes widened. Half a day? Did time pass differently here, or had he gone through several loops after all? "Things got a little dicey for a bit, as you would say, but they're taken care of now. I've negotiated for safe passage to The Dreamheart."

The Joxter raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Wait, are you serious? The Dreamheart is _real_?!"

"It would seem so." Moomin shrugged. "All we need to do is think of being there, and set off walking; apparently we'll arrive within the hour."

"This feels too easy." Snufkin seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he nodded along with The Joxter.

Moomin found himself nodding along with them. "I wouldn't believe it myself, but Cheshire swore thrice on our deal."

The Joxter stared in amazement. "..how on earth did you manage _that_?"

Moomin blushed. "I.. _may_ have threatened him. A bit." No need to go into too much detail; what would Snufkin think??

"..and that _worked_?! What did you even threaten him _with_!?"

Or not. "Well, er.. I told him that I was going to rescue Snufkin or die trying, and if _I_ died there, I was taking him with me."

The other two stared incredulously for a painfully long moment, and there was nary a sound save for the rustling of the trees. Moomin shifted his weight nervously, before The Joxter spoke up again. "Holy _shit_."

"I would be inclined to agree with that sentiment, yes." Snufkin stepped closer. "Excuse my impropriety for a moment, Joxter." He grabbed Moomin by the shoulders and kissed him hard, which was surprising in and of itself; even more surprising, he didn't pull away until long after Moomin expected him to. Eventually he did pull away, leaving Moomin dazed, and with a lovestruck expression on his face. "I love you."

"I.. love you too." Moomin was blushing furiously, and The Joxter laughed.

"Oh, that was priceless! Just like when I.." He went silent. "Hmm. Why did I say that? I haven't ever.." A look of understanding crossed his face. "Ah, the Dreamcurse."

Moomin and Snufkin exchanged a knowing glance; a side effect of Moomin's phrasing meant that the three were no longer subject to the Dreamcurse—"unmolested" was a remarkably broad adjective—but elected not to say anything. If all went well, The Joxter would remember soon enough anyway.

 

* * *

 

The trio strode confidently through the forest, having decided to simply tie a rope around their waists, linking them together. Knowing they had safe passage, they only had to watch out for trickery; it was rather hard to play the impostor when the real Moomin was tied to the other two, one on each side.

They had elected to put him in the middle because he was the heaviest. Moomin had pouted for a moment at the blunt phrasing, but Snufkin quickly reassured him that he had no issues with their relative difference in size. In fact, he was quite fond of how soft and comfortable Moomin was to snuggle with.

Moomin's face had turned bright red at this, though he squeaked out his assent nonetheless.

Soon enough, they began to see subtle differences in the forest; a darker patch of foliage here, an off-colored fairy light there. It did nothing to prepare them for the moment they set eyes on the Dreamheart. The canopy thickened abruptly, casting its shadow on the forest floor, and the three stopped. Moomin spoke up first. "I think this might be what we're looking for."

Snufkin and The Joxter exchanged an amused glance. "Quite the deduction, Moomin."

Moomin stuck out his tongue at The Joxter, then turned back to take in the otherworldly appearance of what could only be The Dreamheart. The foliage had returned to a much more natural green; however, despite that, The Dreamheart was somehow even more alien than The Dreamwoods itself. It was dark, almost unnaturally so, and there were faint flashes of color flitting between the trees deeper within. The underside of the broad leaves of the ferns that choked the forest floor were a startling fuchsia, and faintly luminescent, giving them the appearance of being lit softly from below. Moomin squinted, then huffed out a laugh. "I can't believe it. The plants glow here too, but much more faintly. The mist is gone, though.."

Snufkin shrugged. "Good riddance, if you ask me. We should be careful anyway though; our indemnity by way of Cheshire's deal stops here."

"I agree; but there's not much else we can see or know until we go in," The Joxter nodded, his hand drifting to the handle of his sword—perhaps unconsciously, Moomin thought. He still wasn't quite sure how much training The Joxter may or may not have had.

But that was beside the point. "Then we're in agreement." Moomin turned side to side to look at the other two with an excited grin. "I know this is dangerous, but how often does one get to explore a literal legend? We might very well be the first mortals to set foot in The Dreamheart."

"You really know how to pick 'em, huh kid?" The Joxter smirked.

Snufkin simply blushed, nodding gently. "I think it's more fair to say he picked me. I'm not sure if I could have stayed away even if I tried."

Moomin's cheeks were crimson by this point, and he stared into The Dreamheart, his voice soft. "As if I would ever want you to." Moomin reached out and took Snufkin's paw gently. "Come on, let's get your memories back."

Snufkin looked up at him, a smile on his face and stars in his eyes. "Lead the way, dove."


	8. Point Of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's no turning back. Not now. Not with everything that was at stake.  
> Snufkin was either going to leave here with his memories..
> 
> Or not at all.

"This place freaks me out."

There was a low hiss as the wind blew through the.. trees..? Snufkin wasn't sure. He was certain, however, that he had never heard wind sound quite like _that_.

"You can say that again. Are these supposed to be trees? Why are they so _weird_?"

Snufkin's eyes widened as he had a revelation. "They're upside down. The roots are the branches,"

"Whaaat? No way, a tree would die if you did that."

"Isn't this place rather exempt from the usual rules, though?" Moomin pointed out.

"Hmm," The Joxter was clearly still skeptical.

"Actually, it would do just fine." The others looked at him incredulously. "One year I visited a town that had been absolutely _devastated_ by a storm the year before; according to them, the wind had been so severe that it had uprooted a tree, flipped it over, and embedded it into a nearby riverbank. The ensuing floodwaters buried the top of the tree with mud, and they had no chance of getting it out, so they left it there without thinking much of it." He chuckled. "You can imagine their surprise when they came back a few days later to find that the roots, sticking up in the air, just like these," He pointed up at the canopy. "Were starting to grow leaves, and the tree was alive and well, happy as ever."

The Joxter and Moomin stared at him in amazement, the former being the one to finally break the silence. "There's no way."

Moomin's incredulity was rooted in slightly different reasons. "How have I never heard this story?!"

"I suppose by the time I was head over heels telling you all my stories I'd already seen and done enough to not remember it; or at least, to not be able to remember that it happened amongst all my _other_ stories," Snufkin smiled, and Moomin blushed.

"A-ah, you're probably right."

The Joxter smirked. "Alright, look alive, lovebirds."

 

* * *

 

Snufkin stopped abruptly. "Wait, something feels _different_ , somehow.."

"You are more perceptive than most, mortal. I am known as Lord Oberon; I stand the grandest among the fae, and as such, am the keeper of the Dreamheart." Snufkin jumped in surprise, looking around quickly, before deciding that perhaps at this point it might be best to simply kneel respectfully and keep his wits about him. Oberon chuckled. "And polite too. Refreshing in comparison to the typical visitor to my domain. Wherefore might you come, mortal?"

"I wish to bargain with you, Lord Oberon." There was a gentle rustling in the branches, and a gust of wind lazily swept through. He saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't look up.

"You wish to bargain? Rise, then, and state what it is that you desire."

Snufkin stood, now able to get a proper look at this Lord Oberon. To his surprise, the only obvious 'otherworldly' trait was the fact that they stood some ten feet high, at _least_. Certainly taller than Snufkin, or even The Joxter. He took a deep breath, centering himself before answering. "I have lost my memories, and I want them back."

Oberon regarded him with an amused expression. "Very well; what will you offer me, I wonder? Memories are _such_ weighty things,"

"I have something locked away in my mind, something grand and terrible. Something that I have never shown another soul who yet lives. It is powerful beyond measure; a sufficiently 'weighty' offering, to be sure." Snufkin's heart was pounding; this was his only shot at this, and to call the odds 'long' would be akin to calling Moomin 'acceptable'. He had to sell this, or he and his companions would never make it out of here alive.

Or worse, they would be allowed to leave, only to find that a century had passed since they entered the Forest of Dreams.

Oberon leaned down curiously, and Snufkin had to suppress the instinctive desire to shirk away; Oberon was _far_ larger than he had initially thought. "An intriguing offer indeed. What could a mortal such as you possibly possess with such power? Tell me more about this grand and terrible thing; I will make my decision when I am satisfied with your description." Their voice was a smooth, warm baritone—which was surprising to Snufkin, as he had expected a great, booming voice; not that of a kindly, aged traveler.

"I will be plain about it; my power is a prison of sorts, a blockade placed on the mind. It is one of the most unyielding, obdurate barriers any mortal has ever known, and one that cannot be pierced by force. I offer to you this barrier, this impenetrable shroud that I possess; and in exchange, you will return my memories, along with The Joxter's." There was a soft gasp from behind him, but he did not turn away for a moment; he was wholly focused on what was surely the most dangerous plan he had ever attempted, and he prayed it would remain as such should he survive. " _All_ of our memories, untampered with, as they were when we lost them." Snufkin tapped his temple.

Oberon smirked. "It has been many years since I have been given such a shrewdly worded offer, and many more since I received an offer worth accepting. I will take this power of yours, and in exchange, I will return all of your memories; untampered with, as they were when you lost them." The fae held out two hands, palm down. "Stand here, and I shall put my hands on your heads. I shall not betray our deal once it is complete, and I shall allow you to leave this place unhindered."

Snufkin did not move. "I agree to your terms on the condition that I _and_ my friends are free to leave, and that you thrice swear it to be the truth."

Oberon glared down at him. "Are you suggesting I cannot be trusted to uphold my end of the bargain?"

Snufkin simply tilted his head slightly. "Are you suggesting I'm arrogant enough to think—despite being _bested_ by Cheshire—that I stand grander than the one who stands grandest among the fae?" The irony of that particular lie in this context was not lost on him.

There was a long pause, before the fae scoffed. "..I accept your conditions. This, I swear to be the truth. This, I swear to be the truth. This, I swear to be the truth." There followed a distinctly uncomfortable presence of sorts; magic strong enough to be _felt_. A low hum grew beneath their feet, then rose from the ground into their very bones, an oath made tangible by the raw power of the fae before them. After a moment the buzz left them behind, and Oberon crossed their arms. "Are you satisfied?"

"Yes." Snufkin stepped forward, and he heard footsteps not too far behind as The Joxter approached as well. Snufkin did his best to maintain his calm facade despite his racing heart. If he let on even slightly that there was something to worry about..

Well. Suffice to say he hadn't been lying when he said he was no grander than the one who stands grandest among the fae.

The fae placed one hand on Snufkin's head, and another on The Joxter's.

With no more warning than that, he was overwhelmed; a feeling that could only be described as an _echoing_ sensation washed over him. It rattled around in his brain, the roar of an unfathomably great waterfall flooding the cavernous expanse of his mind where his memories had once been. And just like that..

He could remember _everything_.

 

* * *

 

_By most accounts, Snufkin would consider himself a capable individual. He had spent years wandering to all sorts of fascinating and wonderful places, and had gained at least **some** experience with a great many things. He gazed back at the creature before him—a creature unlike any he had ever seen before—and adrenaline flooded his veins._

_He was going to have to get through this with only his quick thinking, and pray his reflexes could keep up._

_It had crept out of the forest, unnoticed until it was nearly upon him; a horrible, four-legged beast, snarly and smelly in equal proportion, spittle dripping from its jaws. They were lined by two rows of frighteningly sharp teeth that were offset just slightly, and the creature's lips were pulled back, frozen in a permanent snarl, creating a truly terrifying visage. The beast was as wide as Snufkin was tall, and twice as long. Snufkin was sure that the top of his hat wouldn't even reach the beast's gnarled, hunched shoulders; never mind the two great bull-like horns that sprouted up from the sides of its head, or the sharp horn-like spikes along its spine and tail._

_Even more strangely, the rear half of the beast was covered in mottled green scales, instead of the matted, rotting, brown-green fur of the front half. It almost resembled a lion with horns and scales and spines, but with the muzzle squashed like a pug, giving it the appearance of a particularly esoteric chimera. Or perhaps it was a frog's head, not a lion's, but with **horrifying** teeth, and covered in fur as well._

_Despite any resemblances to other creatures it may have had, mythical or otherwise, the long razor sharp claws on its front and hind feet were very real, and Snufkin was rather concerned that the beast may be fast enough to be upon him before he had a chance to do much of anything. "I don't suppose we can talk this out," Snufkin's tone was amicable, even as he reached for the knife he kept in his boot._

_The Beast—for this was what Snufkin had begun to think of the creature as—let out a great roar in response, and came crashing through the undergrowth. It thundered towards him, weighty footsteps accented by the sounds of branches snapping against it's hide, of foliage being torn to shreds by claws nearly as big as he was. Snufkin dropped his pack to the side with a muffled clank—it was of no use to him if he was dead, after all—and readied himself to either dive out of the way, or take a swing at the Beast with his knife, as the situation dictated. Unfortunately, there was a third option that had heretofore been considered only once._

_The Beast lunged towards him, and Snufkin simply wasn't fast enough to make use of options one and two. In the blink of an eye, the Beast swatted him mercilessly to the side with one of its enormous paws._

_Snufkin had time enough to attempt his dive to safety; and as luck would have it, the Beast's paw swung in the same direction. This spared him the brunt of the impact; but he had only traded one problem for another. The jump and the blow together sent him sailing through the air, and worse still, he would land after a very unpleasant length of time; just long enough to know what lies at the end of the journey, but not enough to try and do very much about it._

_Time seemed to slow, and he weighed his options._

_One: He could simply pretend to lay down and die; the sudden stop at the end of this impromptu flight was likely to incapacitate him anyway, so he may as well play to his strengths, so to speak. The trouble with that would come in the Beast's response. If the Beast attacked for a reason as simple as territory, it may leave if it thinks he's dead. If it attacked because it was hungry.. suffice to say that would not be a desirable outcome._

_Two: He could take his knocks, drag himself to his feet, and run for his life. Not very noble, but life isn't always like the stories; sometimes the hero has to run to live another day. Unfortunately, the Beast's unnatural speed already demonstrated the futility of that plan._

_Three: He could hope to land near some sort of hole he could crawl into that was too small for the Beast to fit inside. Then he could hide until the Beast tired of waiting and left. This was the best choice in terms of chances of success, but it relied entirely on luck._

_..Though Snufkin supposed **all** his plans were based on luck at this point—_

_He was torn from his thoughts by an unexpected sharp impact, followed by an agony that tore through his nerves like a forest fire—spreading rapidly and with an intensity unrivaled by anything he had experienced before. He struggled to remain conscious, but after a few moments the pain overwhelmed him, and the world faded to black._

 

* * *

 

He could remember everything, yes, but he still needed to get out of here—

"You _tricked_ me..!"

—Before the fae realized what he had done. He looked up at Oberon, a being with power beyond his comprehension, a being who reigned over a place where dreams were nigh indistinguishable from reality.

This was a fight he could not possibly hope to win.

"I did indeed." ..if he was going to die here, he was going to go out being as cheeky as possible.

"You have violated our agreement, and so your life is forfeit." The fae glowered at him. "I will strike you down where you stand for your treachery, your _insolence_ for asking **_me_ to thrice swear the truth even as _you_ deceived me!**" Their voice had risen in volume, and it took on an otherworldly echo as it rushed through the trees, hissing its displeasure through the gnarled branches.

"On the contrary; I gave you exactly what I offered. I never said a word that wasn't true. Is that not the way of your people?" Snufkin stared defiantly back up at the most powerful entity he would likely ever meet, and _smiled_. "I never said the barrier could be inflicted on others, or what it kept at bay; _you_ simply assumed." The Joxter was staring at him in disbelief, his mouth hanging open.

Oberon trembled with rage, glaring at Snufkin for what felt like an eternity.

Oberon stopped trembling, though his glare didn't fade. They let out a sharp puff of air through their nose. "..It would seem that you are correct. I cannot harm you, nor can I keep you here; the terms of our deal prevent it. You may have won this time, mortal, but make no mistake; you have made an enemy this day."

"I think I can live with that." Snufkin and The Joxter turned to leave, the former taking Moomin's paw as he drew near. He paused one final time. "Pleasure doing business with you."

The three turned and left the grotto; slowly at first, but before long they broke into a run, eager to put that fantastical—and horrible—place behind them. Soon the edge of The Dreamwoods came into view. They tore past the boundary into the Forest of Dreams, allowing themselves to tumble to the ground in relief; they were free from The Dreamcurse's beguiling influence.

They had _made it_.

"Well, that was exciting, to say the least," Snufkin began to giggle, his usual calm demeanor beginning to crack until he was _cackling_ , holding his sides as tears ran down his face.

"What did you even _give_ them?" Moomin looked at him with a curious expression.

"I'm with Moomin; I have to know." The Joxter seemed as though he had much more on his mind than just that—but after a moment of silence, it became clear he wasn't sharing just yet.

Snufkin was sure he would talk about it when he was ready.

Snufkin took a moment to calm himself, wiping his eyes. He looked up at the others and grinned impishly. "I gave up my artist's block."

Silence.

"You.. you traded away your periodic _inability_ to compose or write, in exchange for getting our memories back." The Joxter shook his head. "You tricked a fae—hell, _the_ fae—into doing you a favor in exchange for _doing you a favor_. Kid, you're really something else." Snufkin was surprised to see that while The Joxter was smiling, it wasn't the shit-eating grin he had come to expect from the taller man.

The Joxter was smiling, yes, but he was also almost.. _crying_? "I'm so, _so_ proud of you, Snufkin,"

Snufkin's eyes widened at the uncharacteristically tender words from the older man. "Er.. Thank you? Not to sound ungrateful, but why _proud_?"

"There's no easy way to explain it, but.." He shook his head, wiping his eyes. "We should get you two home. We'll have plenty of time to share stories along the way." He shuddered. "I'd rather not stay here any longer than I have to."

 

* * *

 

_What a lovely little valley, nestled here at the foot of the mountain. Snufkin was sure that he had never been here before, and yet the place felt so welcoming._

_He wondered if it was a result of some sort of magic, or if something about this place spoke to him in some way._

" _Hullo! I'm Moomintroll, but you can call me Moomin! I've not seen you around here before, are you lost?"_

_Snufkin would later contend that the sound he made in that moment was **not** a shriek, thank you very much; it was simply a high-pitched noise of alarm. He clutched a paw to his chest, not turning just yet so he could collect himself. "Good heavens, don't sneak up on a fellow like that!"_

_When he finally did turn around, he found himself face-to-face with a rather fluffy-looking, white-furred creature who was beginning to look terribly guilty. "Oh gosh, I didn't mean to scare you! I thought Mumriks couldn't be snuck up on,"_

" _Ah, well; normally we can't, you see—"_

_This was a lie._

"— _but you caught me in a rare vulnerable moment."_

" _Ooh, that makes sense! I'll try to be careful anyway, just in case!" That horrible guilt-wracked expression quickly gave way to a very large grin, much to Snufkin's relief._

_He **did** find it odd, however, that the creature—Moomin, its name was Moomin, right—felt it necessary to make such an assertion._

_It wasn't like they would be seeing each other all **that** often,_

 

* * *

 

_It turned out that had also been a lie._

" _You simply must come for dinner! Mamma's the best cook in the valley, I'm sure you'll love it!"_

_Moomin was rather insistent that Snufkin come to his home for dinner, and Snufkin wasn't sure what to think about it. Moomin seemed nice enough; but that was just the thing._

_He almost seemed.. **too** nice._

_Though, perhaps Snufkin shouldn't be so hasty to cast judgment. He could go once, and Moomin would be happy, and then he could decide how to proceed from there. He could handle himself. "I suppose I can always appreciate a good meal."_

 

* * *

 

" _Snufkin!" The Mumrik in question turned, surprised that Moomin had come back once again—and only a day later, at that._

" _Yes? What brings you out here?"_

" _My friends and I are going hunting for shells on the beach! Do you want to come too?"_

_Snufkin blinked. "I'm sorry?"_

" _Oh, I'm sorry, I don't mean to impose—"_

_Snufkin held up a paw; he could quite do without the dramatics. "I was just surprised." He lowered his paw. "I have no particular urge to go shell-hunting at the moment, however." Moomin drooped slightly, and Snufkin sighed internally before continuing on. "However, I do rather enjoy the sea by itself. I can come along and enjoy the ocean, even if I don't go hunting with you and your friends."_

_He certainly hadn't been swayed by the need to get that kicked-puppy expression off of poor Moomin's face; he was simply.. inclined to go along, that's all._

 

* * *

 

_If you had presumed that to also have been a lie, you would have been correct—insofar as guessing such could be considered anything of an accomplishment at all, considering **just** how much of a whopper it had been._

" _Snufkin, what's it like out in the world outside the valley?" Moomin came back again and again, seeking tales of adventure—_

" _Snufkin! You won't believe what Little My has done this time!" —and a listening ear for gossip—_

" _Hullo Snufkin! May I sit with you?" —and.. Snufkin's company..?_

_Snufkin was beginning to suspect that Moomin's opinion of him was far greater than he deserved. He acted like they were best friends, but they had only met.._

_..two months ago._

_Had it really been **that** long? Had he really whiled away so many days in this valley, never once growing restless, or weary of its people? **Were** the two of them best friends? He wasn't sure._

_He had never had one before._

 

* * *

 

_Snufkin looked away quickly. "I'm sorry, I.. I don't sing in front of other people. It's too personal, you see. My harmonica is dear to me, but the music comes from it, not me. When I sing, there's nothing between me and the music, and I'm not comfortable baring myself to anyone like that. At least, I have yet to meet such an individual."_

_Moomin looked sad, but he nodded. "Could you play it again for me, then? I'll sing along for the both of us."_

" _This must be one of your favorite songs, then." Moomin nodded eagerly, and Snufkin felt a smile come to his face unbidden. He quickly hid it behind his harmonica, and the first notes of 'All Small Beasts Should Have Bows In Their Tails' filled the air._

_Moomin's voice joined in shortly after—and before Snufkin could protest, tucked itself neatly in a part of Snufkin's heart labeled 'things after which I would never be the same'._

 

* * *

 

_Snufkin was sitting beneath a tree, and Moomin was laying in the grass beside with his head in Snufkin's lap._

_A slow meandering trickle of notes floated away with the wind, Snufkin swaying ever so slightly as he played. Moomin was braiding flowers together into a chain, and Snufkin felt him nod once with a sound of approval. "There." He turned his head to look up at Snufkin with a big smile. "Here, you can put it on your hat!"_

_Snufkin stopped, a smile of his own growing on his features. "Why thank you, Moomin. I shall treasure it howsoever long it may last." He held out a paw to take it, but Moomin surprised him by sitting up and turning towards him._

_He was going to ask why Moomin had gotten up, but then he wasn't thinking very much at all; for Moomin had shuffled forwards on his knees, coming to rest very close to Snufkin, far closer than he had expected, far closer than he was **ready** for—_

_Moomin draped the flower crown over his hat gently, lingering near him for a moment before withdrawing to a distance that Snufkin would—if pressed—classify as 'far enough to want him closer, but close enough to want him farther'._

_He pulled his hat over his eyes in an attempt to center himself after whatever **that** was. "Thank you, Moomin."_

_He heard Moomin giggle, and his heart nearly stopped. "Of course, Snuf. But you make it sound like I've made some grand gesture; a flower crown is hardly worthy of such heartfelt thanks,"_

_It is when it's from **you** , Snufkin thought. "Is it not the heart behind the gesture that truly merits such heartfelt thanks?" Snufkin said._

" _You're such a charming fellow, Snufkin," Moomin laid back down, slowly. "You always seem to know just what to say,"_

_Snufkin felt himself blush under his hat._

_Moomin was simply very sweet, and kind; he certainly didn't mean anything else by it._

 

_It wasn't until later that Snufkin realized Moomin had called him 'Snuf'—something no one had ever done before._

_But he was sure Moomin hadn't mean anything by that either, just like he was sure the warm trill in his stomach hadn't meant anything._

 

_..That was the biggest lie of all._

 

* * *

 

_Snufkin stood in the clearing where his campsite had been, making sure his things were properly in order and secured—no sense traveling a day and a half only to realize you've been losing things all the way._

_Moomin was lovely, but it was time to move on, as he always did. He shouldered his pack, patting his harmonica twice through his pocket, as he always did._

_He began—resumed, he was quick to remind himself—his journey forth, ready to experience the wonders that awaited him in far-flung lands, as he always—_

" _ **Snufkin!** " Moomin's voice rang out across the valley, muted and hollowed by the layer of snow covering everything in sight._

_It did nothing to temper the desperation and anguish in Moomin's voice._

_Snufkin needed to go, before Moomin came here; if he didn't he wasn't sure if he would be able walk away. He didn't know if he could say no to Moomin, to those beautiful, pleading eyes—_

" _Snufkin!" But it was too late. He came barreling into the clearing, tumbling comically to a halt only a few feet away. He scrambled to his feet, unconcerned with the level of grace his arrival displayed—or rather, the lack thereof. "Snufkin, oh, do you really have to leave?"_

_Snufkin averted his gaze. "I do, Moomin. It's the way of things, for Mumriks to journey forth. It's in my nature; surely you understand, right?"_

_He heard a sad sigh, but what Moomin said next was not what he had expected. "I understand. Be safe, okay Snuf? I just couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you."_

_Snufkin felt his face burning. "I'll be careful."_

" _And.. will you come back in the spring? I **am** going to miss you so while you're away, Snuf,"_

_Snufkin still didn't look up. He needed to choose his words carefully; he knew that Moomin was no delicate flower, but he was one with his emotions like no one Snufkin had ever met._

" _..I couldn't let you think something foul had befallen me, could I? I'll come back and sit on the bridge before spring ends, and play my harmonica so you'll know I'm okay as soon as I'm back."_

" _Snuf..!" Moomin sounded so touched that he would agree; and he realized that perhaps Moomin **did** understand just how much he was asking from a Mumrik. "Oh it's **such** a relief to hear you say that,"_

" _Don't you worry Moomin, I'll be back, even if only for a time." He straightened his pack, coughing into his fist. "Well, I really must be going now,"_

" _Until spring, Snuf!"_

_He set off, not looking back—even once he was far beyond the beguiling reach of Moomin's gaze._

" _ **I'll be waiting!**_ "

_He didn't need to look back to know he would see Moomin waving after him until he faded from view entirely._

 

* * *

 

_Snufkin let out a frustrated huff. Maybe the Borderland?_

_No, too dry. He wouldn't be able to play his harmonica; he would shrivel up from the desert-like air._

_The Shining Coast to the south?_

_No, that wouldn't do either. He would have to backtrack altogether too much._

_As Snufkin tried to plan where he would go, sitting by his campfire with a map and a journal entry noting a paltry four destinations, he sighed softly. He was sure Moomin would have all sorts of places he would want to go._

_Perhaps he could visit places Moomin would like so he could have tales of them once he returned._

_Snufkin furrowed his brow. If he stayed that long, of course._

_It wouldn't do to let Moomin dictate his entire schedule, though, so he would only add a few._

 

_It was only once he was halfway through his journey that he realized.._

_He had planned his trip such that Moominvalley was never more than a week away._

 

* * *

 

" _Hello," Snufkin stood by the desk awkwardly, a small book in hand. The stack of books **on** the desk teetered dangerously, and he tried his best not to breathe too hard lest the entire stack came crashing down on top of him._

_And wouldn't that be a way to go? Poor Moomin would be devastated._

" _Hello, dearie! What can I do for you?"_

" _I was wondering if I could perhaps make a trade for this book?" Snufkin ducked his head sheepishly. He had no money, for it was of little use to him in most cases; but some things even **he** had to get from others._

_The old Hemulen peered over her spectacles at the title, then a smile slowly spread across her face. "Ah, that's one of my personal favorites."_

_Oh dear, this may be more difficult than anticipated—_

" _Consider it yours."_

" _..Pardon?" Snufkin was confused. Hadn't she just said..?_

" _That's the kind of book that finds its way into the hands of someone who needs it; and right now sonny, that someone is **you**."_

 

* * *

 

_Snufkin sat on the bridge with harmonica in hand and butterflies in his stomach._

_He began to play._

_A few minutes passed, the sound filling the air and settling in to wait. Snufkin grew increasingly nervous, but he played on._

" _ **Snufkin!**_ "

_**Moomin..!** Snufkin felt his heart began to race, and he noticed the music start to falter. He closed his eyes, concentrating to try to calm himself, even as the sound of pounding footsteps grew ever closer._

" _Snufkin! You came back..! I believed you, of course, but it's just so good to **see** you!" Moomin screeched to a halt just out of arm's reach, and Snufkin barely stifled the urge to scoot closer._

" _It's good to see you too, Moomin." Snufkin deliberated for a moment, returning to his music to give himself time to decide how to handle the situation. Was he ready to admit that he had.._

_..Well, that he had fallen in love. He didn't know how, but he had. This wonderful, furry, beautiful soul had enchanted him in no uncertain terms, and he had fallen wholly, totally in love with no hope of return. He realized the music had been meandering through his thoughts with him, and he let the final note rest a moment before finally lowering the harmonica. "..I missed you."_

_The look on Moomin's face was worth any anxiety he had carried about the decision._

 

* * *

 

" _Snufkin, is everything alright? You've been glancing nervously at your pocket for a while; did something fall out? Should we go back?" Moomin had stopped, and Snufkin cursed his uncharacteristic transparency._

" _No, I.. Moomin, there's something I want to say." No time like the present; he either had to lie or not, and lying would be just as uncomfortable in the long run. Best to just get it out of the way now._

_But.. what if Moomin thought he was being hasty? What if.. what if this ruined their friendship? What if Moomin said no, and wanted nothing to do with him—_

_Moomin beamed. "Then I'm all ears, Snuf!" Snufkin felt his heart **squeeze** , struck by the genuine care and affection in Moomin's voice._

_How silly of him, getting worked up like that. "Moomin, I did a lot of thinking while I was on my journey this past winter." He took his hat off, lowering himself to sit cross-legged before setting it in the grass beside him. He patted the ground in front of him, giving Moomin a soft smile._

_Moomin let out a soft "oh!" and plopped down rather gracelessly—as Moomin tended to do things._

_Snufkin found it charming, the way Moomin was supremely unconcerned with that sort of thing. If it worked for him, why change it because of what others think?_

_Perhaps that was what led Snufkin to grow so fond of Moomin so quickly; they understood each other._

_...But Snufkin was getting distracted. He scooted forwards until their knees were touching. "I've never had a place that I would refer to as 'home'. I've been many wonderful places over the years, and many awful ones. I've met everyone from the meanest Hemulen park keepers, to the enigmatic Hattifatteners. But despite all that, despite everything I've seen.." He reached out and took Moomin's paws, eliciting a soft gasp. "Moominvalley is still the most inviting, lovely place I've ever had the pleasure of staying."_

" _Snufkin," Moomin's eyes were wide, and he was seemingly entranced by Snufkin's words._

" _Moomin, do you want to know why I really came back?"_

_Moomin tilted his head with a confused expression, and Snufkin couldn't help but liken the act to a puppy. "Because I asked you to, right? Which I know was selfish, and moreso to ask you to stay even longer.. You've been here a whole week already!"_

" _While that played its part, it's not the **real** reason I came back."_

" _It's.. not?"_

" _No. The reason I came back, Moomin.. is because I **wanted** to. Plain as that."_

" _You.. **did** say you missed me, didn't you,"_

" _I did; very much so, too." Moomin blushed, and Snufkin smiled to himself._

" _Okay, but that doesn't explain why you're **still** here," Moomin stiffened, quickly shaking his paws in front of himself. "Not that I mind! Not at all! The opposite, really,"_

" _Moomin," Snufkin's gentle tone stopped Moomin in his tracks. "Why I'm still here is even simpler."_

" _Simpler than 'you wanted to'?!"_

_Snufkin couldn't help but laugh at his incredulous tone."Perhaps it would be more fair to say 'fundamental', rather than 'simple'. I know the reason the same as I know that I need to breathe, or that I must wander come winter." He reached out slowly—cautiously—to cup Moomin's cheek with a paw._

_Moomin's face was bright red, but he didn't look away. Instead, he set a paw of his own on top of Snufkin's. He swallowed. "..what **is** the reason?"_

" _ **You** are, Moomin." Snufkin felt himself break into a bright smile, the kind that showed his teeth and wrinkled the corners of his eyes. It was rare, for Snufkin to be truly open like this; but now, when it was just he and Moomin alone, he could hardly imagine being anything but. "I'm staying, because.. I've fallen so deeply, terribly in love with you, and I can't hide it any longer."_

_Moomin practically tackled Snufkin in a bear hug, bowling the smaller boy over and knocking the wind out of him. "I love you too, Snuf..! Oh, I love you so much I can hardly **bear** it sometimes; it was **torture** while you were away,"_

_Snufkin's voice was strained. "Moomin. Can't breathe,"_

" _Oh gosh, I'm so sorry!" Moomin scrambled off of him, kneeling beside him and peering down with a concerned expression. "I promise I didn't mean to,"_

_Snufkin looked up at Moomin in wonder. The sun illuminated his fur from behind, casting a warm glow about him that went so very well with his personality, and the blue of his eyes found an excellent complement against the sky. In that moment, he knew he had made the right decision._

_He was going to marry this boy, or die trying. "Snufkin..?"_

_He reached up almost without thinking, pulling Moomin down to nuzzle Moomin's snout. "Don't worry, dove. I know you're just excited."_

_The book had been very clear that what he had just done would be considered a kiss by a Moomin—Snufkin just hoped he had gotten it right. That book had been invaluable, helping him navigate the customs of the area—which had been surprisingly straightforward._

_..Or perhaps Snufkin had simply never cared to learn before._

_Moomin was very still, and he spoke with a carefully neutral tone. "Snuf, you.. You may not know this, but—"_

" _I'm fully aware that was a kiss, my dear Moomin."_

_Moomin was dumbfounded. "..oh."_

_Snufkin giggled. "May I kiss you the way Mumriks do?"_

_Moomin nodded rapidly, and Snufkin laughed as he pulled his boyfriend—Moomin was his boyfriend..! Snufkin was quite sure he couldn't be happier—down again. They broke apart after a few moments, and Moomin stared a moment. "Oh wow, that's very different,"_

_Snufkin blushed. "Hopefully not a bad thing..?"_

" _Not at all a bad thing. I'm not sure any kiss could be bad if it was you doing the kissing, Snuf."_

_Snufkin blushed even harder. "Oh my, such flattery!"_

_Moomin looked just beside him with an inquisitive noise. "Oh, I think you dropped.. this.." Moomin reached over him, picking up... The book he had been relying on._

_It must have fallen out of his pocket when Moomin jumped on him._

_Moomin read the title aloud. "'Only The Mountain Need Be Lonely: Courtship Rituals of The Lonely Mountain and Surrounding Areas'."_

_Snufkin hid behind his hat, mortified that he had been so careless. He had been content with simply beginning the process, but there was really no explaining the book any other way._

" _Snuf, is.. is this what I think it is..?" Snufkin nodded timidly, not moving his hat. "You came back to the valley with the intention of **courting** me..?"_

_Another nod._

_Moomin giggled. "..And here I was, worrying I was being childish for imagining a future with you when it's been barely a year since we met,"_

_Snufkin peeked out from behind his hat. "..really?"_

_Moomin's smile was blinding, and happy tears began to coat the fur on his cheeks. "Really,"_

_..Suddenly, the matching ribbons in Snufkin's pocket felt much more **real**._

 

* * *

 

"You had our wedding ribbons the _whole time_?!" Moomin wore an incredulous grin—which made little sense when Snufkin actually thought about it, how could one be excited about something they didn't believe yet?—but Moomin made it work, nonetheless.

He blushed. "I was _so_ worried you were going to think I was coming on too strong, or that you'd find the ribbons and get the wrong idea,"

"The wrong idea? What other idea could I have gotten other than 'Oh my stars Snufkin has matching ribbons, is he going to _propose_?'"

"I didn't know as well at the time, and you know how I can be sometimes anyway," Moomin nodded, patting him on the back affectionately. "I was worried you'd think I had a sweetheart somewhere else, or that I didn't understand the gravity of what they meant,"

"Snufkin, no offense; but I think it's pretty clear you're nuts about Moomin, and I'd be willing to bet everyone but you knew it." The Joxter smirked, but the smile turned wistful soon after.

Odd. That was the second time now that The Joxter had clearly been thinking more about the subject than he said about it. "He has a point, dear. Did you never think about how odd it would be to yell 'I'll be waiting' like that to a regular friend? After chasing you down to catch you before you went, while I should have _already been asleep_?"

Snufkin pulled his hat down. "Joxter help my husband is bullying me,"

"You're on your own, kid, I know better than to get involved in a couple's spat,"

"You two are ridiculous. _Ridiculous_."

 

* * *

 

" _Moominpappa, Moominmamma; I would like to ask for your blessing to marry your son."_

" _Snufkin, you have gone to quite a lot of effort, **and** very nearly uprooted your entire way of life for him; there is no one I would trust to care for him more. Our blessing is yours."_

_Snufkin began to tear up. "I promise I'll do everything in my power to do right by him."_

_Moominmamma smiled. "We know you will, dear."_

 

* * *

 

_Moomin arrived exactly when Snufkin asked him to; the sun had just begun to set. Snufkin started to reach into his pocket, but checked the motion. The ribbons were still there, just like the last thirty or so times he had checked._

_Alright, fine; thirty-four._

_Not that he was counting._

" _Snuf!" Moomin embraced him warmly. "I'm so excited to see what you have in store tonight!"_

_Snufkin kissed him, if only because he could, and because Moomin was very lovely. "Then I shan't keep you waiting a moment longer," He gestured to a boat moored at the dock. "Our means of transport this fine evening; I hope you find it to your liking."_

" _Are we going on an adventure?!"_

" _I would certainly say so; some might even call it more than that."_

" _..More than an **adventure**..? Hmm.." Moomin set a paw to his chin. "An expedition? No, that sounds **less** dramatic, not more,"_

_He was clearly thinking very seriously on the issue; it was a very earnest kind of endearing. While Snufkin had been sure about marrying Moomin before.. if he hadn't, he certainly would be now._

_He held out a hand to Moomin. "Come on; I'll show you."_

_Moomin took it with a smile. "I trust you, Snuf. Let's go."_

_The two clambered into the boat, and began to row away from the shore._

_After only a few minutes, Moomin noticed the wicker basket Snufkin had stashed in the boat. "Oh, are we going to have a picnic?!" He bounced in place gently in excitement, but his size compared to Snufkin and the boat made 'gently' a rather relative term._

_Several things happened in quick succession: Snufkin wobbled dangerously from the sudden rocking, which caused Moomin to instinctively reach out to steady him, not thinking about the further effect that action would have on the boat's stability. This was the critical point, the point of no return; Moomin carried enough weight that his sudden shift sealed their fate, despite his desire to help. Snufkin flailed desperately to right himself, but it was of little use, and the boat promptly capsized, pitching the two into the water._

_They broke the surface in short order, and Snufkin quickly made sure he hadn't lost the ribbons; he hadn't, thank goodness. He looked up, only to find that Moomin looked as though he might cry. He smiled at him. "Well, that was fun! Shall we drag the boat to shore and try again, or accept fate's sign to have our picnic here?"_

_Moomin relaxed, reassured that he hadn't ruined anything. "When my fur gets wet I swear it weighs as much as I do," He giggled. "I won't make you row the extra weight around. How about we eat first, and if I'm dry in time we can go then?"_

" _Whatever you'd like, Moomin." Snufkin smiled easily. "I'm just happy to be here with you,"_

_Moomin blushed. "You're such a sweetheart,"_

_They towed the boat to shore, and Snufkin spread out the blanket—thankfully, the basket had gotten wedged under the seat, and the basket remained largely dry due to the air trapped inside the boat. To Moomin's surprise, Snufkin also pulled out a pair of towels. "I brought these in case we wanted to go swimming; well, I suppose we did, just not the way we would usually go about it."_

_Moomin laughed. "So we did, didn't we?"_

_Snufkin smiled at him; the sunset cast a rosy golden light over the scene, and Snufkin knew it would only last a few minutes more._

_The time was now. "Moomin?"_

" _Hm? What is it, Snuf?"_

" _I must admit I have not told you everything about the plan for today," Moomin cocked his head to the side in that way Snufkin adored, and he continued. "I had no destination in mind, actually. It's not about that."_

" _They do say that life is about the journey, not the destination, after all."_

" _Precisely; I wanted to share an experience with you, and I wanted it to be special." He laughed. "It certainly was, too. It's fitting, in a way. We always have had our own way of doing things."_

" _Snufkin..?"_

_Snufkin walked over to Moomin, kissing him softly. "Moomin, I said some might call this more than an adventure; I would agree. Adventures have a goal. This does too, but it's a goal to continue, not achieve."_

_Moomin's eyes widened as the pieces began to fall into place. "Snufkin, are you..?"_

" _I swear that I will keep loving you until the day I die, Moomin. The conclusion of our outing today was never meant to be a conclusion at all," Snufkin reached into his pocket, and took out two matched silk ribbons; one green, and one white. "This is more than an adventure, because the destination isn't important."_

_Snufkin felt a tear roll down his cheek, and Moomin looked to be seconds away from bursting into tears himself. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. "All that matters is having you by my side every step of the way. If I have you.. I don't need anything else. Moomintroll; will you marry me?"_

_Moomin reached the limit of his emotional constitution, and threw his arms around Snufkin, sobbing into his shoulder. "Yes! **Yes** , Snufkin, I will marry you."_

_He pulled away and kissed Snufkin rather fiercely, which shouldn't have been surprising, yet here he was. "Mmph!"_

" _Oh," Moomin laughed through his tears. "Sorry, I got a little caught up in the moment,"_

" _Nonsense; I just said it was about the journey, didn't I? We have all the time in the world to get as carried away as we like; and when we're tired and weary, we can rest our feet wherever this road may take us."_

_Moomin kissed him again, gently this time. He smiled softly. "I think that might be the loveliest idea I've ever heard."_

 

* * *

 

"—And then my stomach growled louder than it has in my entire life, which I still haven't forgiven it for."

"Moomin, dear, we launched ourselves out of a boat, then had a vaguely damp picnic after we had just cried ourselves to exhaustion. It's safe to say your stomach growling had no chance of being a meaningful negative influence." Snufkin smirked. "Plus you made such a cute face afterwards,"

"Joxter help my husband is bullying me,"

"Ohh no, don't drag me into.. this.." The Joxter trailed off as the roof of Moominhouse peeked out from behind a hill.

"Well, Snuf? Shall we give everyone the good news?" Moomin held out an arm, which Snufkin took with a wide grin.

"I think we shall."

It was safe to say that Snufkin had never been happier.

 

He was finally home.


	9. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our triumphant heroes return home. Many tears are shed, and many reunions are had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Back-to-back updates! I might need to come back to this one, and I arguably need to go over the entire fic for continuity errors, but here it is! The final chapter of TQFSM!

The three travelers stood on the edge of the valley; they were finally home. Moomin took Snufkin's paw with a smile, and they began to walk down the gentle slope, Moominhouse resting at the bottom in the distance.

Waiting. _Beckoning_.

The two boys were surprised when they saw that The Joxter still walking with them.

"I thought you weren't one for goodbyes?" Snufkin raised an eyebrow.

"This is such a lovely place, what kind of wanderer would I be if I didn't stop to enjoy it?" The Joxter grinned, but there was a tightness to his jaw and posture that suggested there to be more to this than he let on.

The Joxter would talk about it when he was ready. Snufkin smiled with a lazy shrug. "That makes sense to me." The Joxter shot him a grateful look, and the three made their way into the valley proper.

As they drew closer to Moominhouse, The Joxter had a nervous air about him that seemed to be _worsening_. While this was rather odd, Snufkin simply assumed the source of his nerves to be related to meeting a group of strangers; Moomin, however, did not. "Are you quite alright, Joxter?"

"Yes, yes, of course! Not a care in the world!" By this point it would have been clear to _anyone_ that The Joxter was lying, and Moomin was no fool. But it was by that merit that he recognized the silent request to pretend nothing was amiss.

So he simply nodded, and smiled. "Okay; but remember that you can always talk to us if you need to." The Joxter looked back to Moominhouse—now close enough to smell the smoke rising from the chimney—and smiled wryly to himself.

"Yeah. I will." He had a faraway look in his eyes, and Snufkin could only imagine what was on his mind. Perhaps _he_ once had a place like this in his life, and he missed it just like Snufkin missed Moominvalley.

The Joxter shook himself out of his memories as they stepped up onto the porch. Moomin took the doorknob, stepping inside and dramatically striking a heroic pose as he _flung_ the door open.

The effect was somewhat ruined by the door hitting the wall with a loud _bang!_

..But he soldiered on nonetheless. "Mamma! Pappa! We're back! We did it!"

There were a myriad of footsteps in response; it seemed there were more people home than just Moominmamma and Moominpappa. Sniff and Snorkmaiden came rushing around the corner with excited grins on their faces, nearly tripping over themselves as they rushed to greet their friends' triumphant return. "Snufkin! Moomin! I'm so glad you're okay!" Snorkmaiden threw her arms around Moomin, squeezing him tightly, and they both laughed joyously as he spun her around.

Sniff walked over to Snufkin and bumped their shoulders together affectionately. "Good to have you back, Snufkin."

He let out a shocked yelp when Snufkin pulled him into a big hug, swaying from side to side excitedly. "Comfrey! I remember everything now! It's so good to have you all back, things were terribly lonely in my head without you,"

Snorkmaiden looked over to see Sniff trapped in a bear hug from _Snufkin_ , of all people, and gasped. "Are we hugging Snufkin!? I want a turn!"

She gave Moomin a quick nuzzle on the cheek, then dashed over to throw her arms around Snufkin as well, who let out a soft " _Oof,_ " Snufkin was caught off guard, but he still found himself smiling and laughing—even as he struggled to keep his balance in the face of such an onslaught of affection.

How did he ever get so lucky as to have such wonderful friends?

Next around the bend was Little My, who wasted no time in launching herself at Snufkin, climbing up onto his shoulders and settling herself there. "There's my favorite step-brother,"

Snufkin snorted. "I'm your _only_ step-brother, My." His voice was deadpan, but he couldn't keep his smile at bay for more than a few moments.

The joyous cacophony came to an end with the sound of a coffee mug crashing to the floor. Moominpappa stood in the doorway to his study with an expression of shock and disbelief on his face, and a spreading puddle of coffee at his feet. "... _Joxter_? Is.. is it really you?" He took a faltering step forwards. "After all these years, is it really _you_..?"

All eyes turned to The Joxter, who raised a hand in a sheepish wave. "..Surprise..?"

Moominpappa broke into a run, and The Joxter's eyes widened as he was tackled to the ground. "Where have you _been_?! I—we thought you were _dead_! The Mymble was so—" He cut off as his voice hitched. " _I_ was so worried, I thought that—that I would never get to see you again!" The room was nearly silent except for Moominpappa sobbing into The Joxter's shoulder, and soon they both had begun to cry.

Moominmamma arrived last, a bright smile on her face, which quickly morphed to one of shock to match the room's other occupants. " _Joxter_? You're _alive_?"

"Sure as the sun rises," He managed through his tears, waving nervously.

"It's so good to have you back, Joxter," She smiled down at them, her own eyes welling up with tears.

"So wait, you _are_ that Joxter, the one from Pappa's stories?" Moomin's face raced through several emotions in quick succession, and Snufkin smiled at the sympathetic look he ended on. "That's why you never came back," The Joxter nodded sadly. "You lost your memories, same as Snufkin; but you didn't wander back into the valley the way he did, and so you never knew you had something you were leaving behind to begin with."

The Joxter took a shaky breath. "For the benefit of you youngsters, I'll explain why everyone thought I was dead." He shuddered, and Moominpappa held him slightly closer. "When I was younger, I was.. flighty, to say the least." Moominpappa snorted at this. "I was afraid of attachment. I was so consumed by making sure I was worthy, that I was _useful_ ,"

"Joxter, you know we love you no matter what." Moominmamma smiled, and he smiled back gratefully.

"I know that _now_ ; but then, I didn't. I ran. I ran, and it was a year and a half before I came back."

 

* * *

 

_The Mymble reached a paw out hesitantly. "Jox..ter? Is.. is it really you?"_

_She sounded heartbroken, and The Joxter regretted every decision he ever made since that day; he'd made a lot, but none of them were what they should have been:_

_Go back to The Mymble. The light of your life. The only woman who ever truly understood, and you just **walked away**._

_Not this time. He would grovel if he had to. One cannot make a Mumrik do anything, and no one was trying to; he had learned his lesson. She was worth it. "Mymble, I—"_

_"Joxter! Oh, Joxy I was so **worried** about you!" The Mymble rushed forward and swept him into her arms._

_What._

_He opened his mouth to respond, but naught escaped aside from a small squeak as she squeezed him tighter. "My Joxter.. I **know** you need your space, I **know** you're not one to be tied down, but please, spare a poor woman the worry and tell me before you go next time?"_

_She looked down at him with tears in her eyes, and The Joxter finally found his voice. "There needn't be a next time. I've regretted leaving you ever since. I'm sorry, my love."_

_The Mymble gasped softly. "Then why didn't you simply come back?"_

_"I was.." The Joxter steeled himself for his next admission. "I was afraid. I just.. **left** you, I thought.. I was afraid you wouldn't.. love me anymore."_

_"Oh, Joxter, I want you to—no, I **need** you to know that I will **always** love you. No matter how far you wander, no matter how many interesting folks we may meet or tarry with, my love for you will never falter." She held him close, kissing the top of his head gently._

_The Joxter sucked in a sharp breath, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. "Mymble.. thank you—" He cut off as his voice broke, a sob escaping in its place. A weight had been lifted from his chest, and the emotion it had been holding inside began to spill over._

_"It's okay, Joxter, I've got you, you're safe here." She cooed softly to him as he cried, stroking his hair. "I believe you. If you say you won't leave again, I believe you. And if you decide you do need to, that's alright. Just.. be sure to tell me, okay?"_

_"I will, Mymble." He held her tighter, before speaking up again._

_"..I promise."_

 

* * *

 

"So when I didn't return.." The Joxter trailed off.

"Either you'd skipped town again," Snufkin nodded as understanding dawned for him as well. "Or.."

"Or I was dead." The Joxter nodded. "It's understandable, really, I wouldn't even _believe_ my own story if I hadn't lived it; I certainly can't see anyone _inventing_ it as a potential explanation. To boot, the timing couldn't have been worse; that was hardly even a _month_ before I lost my memories."

 

* * *

 

_The Joxter gave a start, then looked around in confusion. Wasn't he **just** in a different forest? Why was he on the **ground**? He must have hit something when he landed to boot, his side was rather sore.. The Joxter shifted and pulled his shirt up to inspect the area, but froze at what he saw._

_There was a ragged patch of mauve fur on his side, below his ribs. That was.. unusual. It did seem to be the source of the ache, though. He supposed it would pass, and so collected his pipe—which he must have dropped, come to think of it, and wasn't that strange? He was usually so careful with it._

_The Joxter decided he was quite done lying in the dirt for now, and pulled his feet under him, rising and dusting himself off. His tail flicked once, then twice; The Joxter shivered._

" _Oh dear," He murmured aloud to himself, despite being alone. "It seems I'm getting quite the foreboding, but I haven't the slightest idea what not to do,"_

 

* * *

 

There was a hush as the room digested this information. A look of realization crossed Moominmamma's face. "We have to tell The Mymble he's back, and what happened." She turned to Snorkmaiden with a sense of urgency. "How soon can your brother get a message to The Mymble? Better yet, how soon can he get The Mymble _here_?"

Snorkmaiden raised her head proudly, and Snufkin knew why; her brother may be insufferable sometimes, but he was still the best engineer the valley had ever seen. "He can have her here before you know it! He just finished a new design that's faster than ever, and this is the perfect occasion for its inaugural flight. I'll go tell him right away!" She dashed out the front door, and Moominmamma turned back to the two men on the floor.

"Alright, you're off the hook this time, Joxter; but don't you _ever_ leave me again!" Moominpappa poked The Joxter in the nose, having pulled away enough to face him again. There was a second pause, and Moominpappa's cheeks turned bright red as he realized how that sounded.

And how many people heard him say it. "Er.."

The Joxter cupped his face with a paw gently, and Moominpappa's blush overtook his entire face. "I promise I will never, _ever_ abandon you. Not willingly."

Little My gagged. "Geez, do you have to do this right here in the middle of the kitchen?"

"My!" Moomin gasped, and looked over at her with a frown.

The Joxter looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I _was_ going to suggest we let the youngsters have their space while we catch up elsewhere,"

"Joxter, what are you planning," Moominpappa sounded mildly alarmed, but despite that he seemed rather disinclined to move. Snufkin had a sneaking suspicion Moominpappa knew _exactly_ what was about to happen, and was simply maintaining plausible deniability.

The Joxter looked back at Moominpappa with a smirk. He leaned up and kissed Moominpappa gently. "That." Moominpappa hummed happily in response, his blush never fading.

"Gross! I'm out of here, let me know when all of you lovebirds are done being disgusting! Oh, and Snufkin, you still need to tell me who took your memories so I can hurt them," Little My then hopped down and dashed away, presumably to find some way to cause trouble somewhere else.

Moomin, however, was shocked at his Pappa's behavior. He may have had his share of dalliances, as The Joxter would say; but he was married to Mamma now! " _Pappa_! What are you doing?!"

Moominmamma walked over and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, dear. Just because your father loves The Joxter doesn't mean he loves me any less."

This time it was The Joxter's turn to be shocked. "You—Moomin, you.. love me? _Still_? Even now, after all this time, after I was away for so _long_ , without so much as a letter to let you know I was okay?"

"I couldn't stop loving you if I tried. Yes, I was bitter about you leaving, but even that wasn't enough to outweigh how worried I was that you'd—that—" He choked up again, and The Joxter held him close. "I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe you were—dead. I—you—"

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here, I'm alive, I'm okay," The Joxter pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I won't leave you again, I promise. I.." He stopped for a few moments, weighing something in his mind, then nodded once. "I'll build a house halfway between The Mymble's place and here; that way you'll both always know where to find me."

The remaining occupants of the room stared down at him in disbelief. "A _house_? Joxter, are you sure..?" Moominpappa said what was on everyone's mind, with one exception.

Sniff seemed to be aware that he was missing something, however, and that perhaps he should let them have their moment. "I'm happy you're back, Snufkin; I'm gonna go so you guys can have your.. whatever _this_ is."

He walked quickly out of the room, and the others laughed. "Well, good on him for noticing, at least." Moomin walked over to Snufkin, taking his paw with a smile.

He smiled back, and gave Moomin's paw a gentle squeeze. "That certainly is one way to cut the tension."

"Joxter, do you really mean to build a _house_? You don't have to prove anything to me, I promise—" Moominpappa was undeterred by Sniff's interruption, but The Joxter silenced him with another kiss before he could work himself up too much.

"Moomin—Oh, it's Moominpappa now, right.. That might be confusing," He shook his head quickly. "Anyway, Moominpappa; I just spent over a decade searching for what I lost, and I spent a decade before that trying to figure out why I felt so _empty_ , so _bereft_. More than twenty years of feeling a potent, lingering _wrongness_ that seeped into my very bones." Moominpappa had begun to tear up, and his son was much the same.

"Oh, _Joxter_ , sweetheart.." The Joxter blushed at Moominpappa's openly affectionate words, but continued anyway, draping his arms around Moominpappa's shoulders.

"Some twenty-five-odd years of that is more than enough for me to know that giving up my wandering lifestyle is nothing compared to losing you _or_ The Mymble; let alone _both_. If I have a choice, I'll pick you over wandering every time. So yes, Moominpappa, I do really mean to build a house; because for the first time in my life, I know that house will be _home._ " He smiled up at Moominpappa, who was floored.

Snufkin, meanwhile, had gone very still as he started to put the pieces together. If The Joxter was in love with The Mymble, who was his mother, and if _he's_ been wandering for just barely two decades, then..

He wasn't sure just yet, and he didn't want to ruin this tender moment, so he held his tongue for the time being. His concern was largely unnecessary, however, as the door burst open and a very large woman came rushing in.

" _JOXY!_ " The Mymble swept both the men on the floor into her arms, nuzzling The Joxter and depositing Moominpappa back on his feet in one fell swoop. Snufkin had forgotten just how _tall_ his mother was; she was easily the tallest in the room, despite The Joxter being rather tall himself. She had begun peppering him with kisses, and he was laughing in delight. "Oh, Joxy, The Snork and Snorkmaiden told me all about how you lost your memories, and that you hadn't meant to leave me again at all! They told me that really, _I_ was taken from _you_ , and that you came here just as _soon_ as you knew where to go,"

"Mymble, my goodness, slow down! At least let me kiss you too," The Joxter smiled, happy with his quip as The Mymble threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, how rude of me!" He looked disappointed when she set him down, but that disappointment was short lived; she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him, long and slow. And frankly, it was a bit much for Snufkin, who averted his eyes, pulling his hat down to hide his face.

"Mymble, you're a lovely woman, but please don't ravish The Joxter in my kitchen," Moominmamma admonished gently, but her smile belied her stern tone of voice.

Snufkin blushed at the implications, but his hat kept this fact from the others. "Yes, Moominmamma. Though I'd rather think the issue would be doing so in front of our son, not doing so in the kitchen." She laughed, but quickly quieted as she noticed the silence that had yet again descended upon the room.

"I.. Hadn't told him yet. I didn't want to overwhelm him, he's been through quite a lot in the last few days..." The Joxter hid his face in his hands.

Snufkin took a slow step forward. "Pappa..? You.. You really are my pappa?"

"Yes, I am your pappa. I was going to explain.." The Joxter looked down, but Snufkin wasn't worried with things like that; he launched himself into his father's arms without a second thought, throwing his arms around them both as best as he could.

"It's okay, pappa, I understand. I.." He sniffed, trying to hold himself together. "It makes so much more sense now, what you said about being proud of me.. But.. pappa?"

"What is it?" Snufkin looked him dead in the eyes, his expression tender.

"I'm proud of you, too, pappa." The Joxter's breath left him in a rush, and he looked between the three people he loved most, rendered absolutely speechless. "We're _all_ proud of you. Even though everything felt bleak, and wrong, you kept going. If you hadn't, who knows if we would have _ever_ gotten you back. _And_ you didn't know me at all, but you still helped me anyway."

"Oh, Snufkin, you're so grown up and wise..!" The Mymble hugged him tightly, tears rushing down her face. The Joxter smiled, unable to stop his own tears.

Moominmamma tugged gently on Moomin's shoulder. "We should give them their space; you've had a few days to reunite with Snufkin, but I should think they would need a bit." They turned to go upstairs, and Moominpappa began to follow before his wife stopped him. "Dear, I'm not about to separate you two so soon after you found out he's alive, let alone that you both still love each other."

The Mymble gasped and looked between the two of them. "Oh, Joxy, I'm so happy for you two!! Oh, but we really _are_ all competing for your time then, aren't we?"

Snufkin extricated himself from The Joxter's arms, taking a small step back. "I'm very happy about all this, and I will surely want to spend time with you both, but I have been in _very_ close proximity to far more people than I'm used to," The Joxter and The Mymble both gave him an understanding smile.

"Take as much time as you need; we'll be happy to spend as much time with you as you like, once you're ready for it." The Joxter nodded along with The Mymble's words.

Snufkin walked over to accompany Moominmamma and his husband upstairs, his cheeks flushing as Moomin's tail wrapped around his waist affectionately. "Thank you."

Moominmamma looked at the three remaining in the kitchen, and tilted her head. "Have a good time dear!" She smirked, and her voice darkened ever so slightly. "I'm looking forward to hearing _all_ about it,"

Moomin's eyes widened. "What does _that_ mean?"

Snufkin was _fairly_ sure what it meant, and he was _very_ sure he did _not_ want to think about it.

"It means that your dad and I are going to—" The Mymble was cut off by The Joxter putting a paw over her mouth.

"Not in front of Snufkin, he doesn't like talking or hearing about that sort of thing in public." The Joxter shot Snufkin a smile, who nodded appreciatively.

Unfortunately, Moomin's curiosity and disbelief got the better of him just enough to blurt out one last question:

"At the _same time_?!"

Snufkin was sure he was going to die of embarrassment.

Oh. Oh dear. What _was_ the protocol for your husband's dad sleeping with your dad? The two pairs had become involved totally independently, so it wasn't like—

Snufkin shook his head, electing not to think about it, but he couldn't shake the strangeness of the whole situation—

"Snufkin, dear, I can practically _hear_ you stewing in your thoughts," Moomin slipped an arm around his waist. "I can assure you that you have more important things to be thinking about."

"Oh?" Snufkin was confused for a moment, but Moominmamma smiled knowingly, turning to walk upstairs, and he realized what he meant. " _Oh_ ,"

"Shall we go, my love?" Moomin smiled, and Snufkin surprised him by jumping into his arms.

"Yes, I believe I would like that very much. Looking back on it, now that I've recovered my memories; I do believe you were holding back that night in Woodsman's Refuge."

"Oh, er.. Well, yes, I suppose I was. Why?"

He winked and leaned in, and Moomin's face turned bright red at the uncharacteristic gesture. "Don't."

 

* * *

 

His tale of heroics finished, The Joxter moved to sit in a lovely armchair he had been gifted by the Moomin family. He could hardly believe he was finally back, let alone that he deserved this kind of love—

Moominpappa sidled over to The Joxter, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Oh, sorry, I guess I was lost in my own thoughts a bit. What did you say?"

Moominpappa smiled easily. "I said, 'What _really_ happened?'"

The Joxter cast a glance at his sword hanging on the wall. It was just like Moominpappa to know what was on his mind so easily. "I've never killed someone with that sword. My fair share of monsters? Sure. Someone else? No. The closest was a fae in The Dreamwoods, but they aren't really people as we think of them. No, the swordsman I learned from taught me never to use it against a person unless I absolutely had to."

"So what happened?" Moominpappa quirked a brow. "You got the harmonica back, and you had to have gotten it somehow."

"..I pushed him off a cliff when he went to go to the bathroom."

"..Holy _shit_ Joxter," Moominpappa stared incredulously, and The Joxter held up his hands defensively.

"It was the only way to be sure he didn't have it on him," He relaxed when he saw Moominpappa laughing quietly to himself.

"Where did that story even come from, then?"

The Joxter sighed. "Killing isn't heroic. It's violent, and painful, and horrifying. I never understood where all the tales of honor and glory and heroics came from; until I had someone I wanted to shield from those horrors."

Moominpappa nodded understandingly. "Snufkin," It was more of a statement than a question of confirmation.

The Joxter nodded slightly, still staring off into the distance. "Your son too, but yes. He's my boy, Moominpappa. I have a lot to make up for—"

Moominpappa cut him off with a paw on his shoulder. "Nonsense. You searched tirelessly for twenty-five years, I think you've done more than your share of penance. And you got his harmonica back, along with helping him get his memories. In fact, I'd go as far as to say you saved everything Snufkin holds dear in less than a single month."

The Joxter didn't look convinced. "I wouldn't say _everything_ ,"

Moominpappa raised a brow. "His most treasured possession, his husband, and his long-lost father? I suppose The Mymble was still around, but while she was a maternal figure, she was not a familial one."

The Joxter smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Moominpappa."

A light blush dusted his cheeks as Moominpappa took his paw gently. "It makes me very grateful that you care so much for my son."

The Joxter looked away, unsure how to handle such genuine affection. "Er.. thanks? I don't quite understand where this is coming from though,"

"You say it's nothing, but you still stuck your neck out for him in one of the most dangerous places _any_ of us has ever been." Moominpappa squeezed his paw briefly. "What more could a father ask for his son? To have people who would literally put their life on the line for him?"

The Joxter began to blush in earnest now, and Moominpappa grinned. "Oh come now Joxter, where is this bashfulness coming from? This isn't like you at all,"

He continued to stare resolutely downwards. "I am re-adjusting to a lot of feelings right now; particularly the ones telling me to kiss you senseless to stop you from heaping compliments upon me,"

Moominpappa looked over with a smug grin. "Bold of you to assume you could shut me up that easily."

The Joxter's eyes flashed up, filled with that bright steely look Moominpappa was so fond of, causing his smile to grow even wider. "Is that a challenge?"

Moominpappa leaned in close, his voice rumbling deep in his chest even despite how softly he spoke. "It could be,"

They were snapped out of the moment by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them. "Is this how it's always going to be now?" Moominmamma smiled wryly, a twinkle in her eye belying her amusement at the situation. "I _will_ make Snufkin chaperone you two."

The Joxter turned his head enough to look at her out of the corner of his eye with a mischievous smile. "Oh? I'm surprised; last I heard you'd asked dear Moominpappa here to give you a play by play of him and The Mymble—"

She laughed. "Alright, alright, fair point."

Almost as if he had been summoned by the sound of his name, Snufkin walked over, Moomin trailing not far behind. He seemed to be trying to catch up, but he was somewhat hindered by his attempt to carry five plates of food at once.

Snufkin turned to see what was taking him, presumably, and The Joxter couldn't help but laugh at the double take that ensued. Snufkin dashed back to his husband, chiding him gently. "Dove, you could have asked for help, you know." He took two of the plates, and they continued over to their parents.

Oh, that was strange to think about. What _was_ the protocol for sleeping with the father of your son's husband? _Was_ there a protocol? They'd gotten together independently, though, so—

He shook himself out of his thoughts once again as Moomin offered him a plate. "Here, you must be hungry." He took it gratefully, taking a bite. "Especially after that tall tale of yours."

—only to choke on said bite at being so brazenly called out. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean,"

Snufkin raised an eyebrow with a small smirk. "'There's no mystery or romance to killing; only death, and loss.' Your words, not mine."

The Joxter sighed. "Alright, alright. Are you sure you want to hear the real story?"

Moominpappa snorted. "Joxter, your son once lit a park keeper on _fire_ , and Moomin apparently threatened grievous injury on not one, but _two_ supernatural entities; I think they can handle the real story."

"If you don't want to tell us, that's okay, though. I know that sometimes there are things one would rather forget." Snufkin smiled, and The Joxter felt his heart swell with pride.

"It's alright. I suppose I'm just protective. The real story is much less interesting; I tailed the highwayman into the mountains, and when he got up in the night to pee I pushed him off a cliff." He shrugged. "I promised my swordmaster never to harm another person with that blade unless it was absolutely necessary. That was the only backup I could think of that guaranteed the harmonica wouldn't be on his person."

"Couldn't you have just.. stolen it back? If you were able to sneak up on him.." Moomin tilted his head questioningly.

"I could sneak up on him, but I had no way to know where he was keeping it, and I couldn't root through his stuff to find it without being noticed."

"Plus he deserved it." There was a moment of incredulous silence as everyone turned to look at Moominmamma. "What? He threatened my boy, tried to steal his wedding ribbons, and _actually_ stole Snufkin's most prized possession, solely for the sake of depriving him of it. If he had become a highwayman to survive, I would have had at least _some_ sympathy. But he didn't; he was cruel, and he knew it, _reveled_ in it, even." There was a familiar steely look in her eyes, and The Joxter realized Moominpappa definitely had a type. "He got what was coming to him."

He looked over and stifled a laugh at the blush dusting Moominpappa's cheeks. "Dear, have I told you that I love it when you get that look in your eyes?"

It seemed The Joxter had been dead on the money. "It seems you have a type, Pappa." And apparently Moomin saw it too.

Moominpappa spluttered in embarrassment, grasping for some sort of defense; but after a moment, he came up empty handed and simply hid his face in his paws. "They never tell you that your kids growing up means your kids can tease _you_ too,"

There was a round of laughter, and Moominmamma set her paw on her husband's shoulder. "Don't worry dear, you aren't alone." Her gaze flashed to The Joxter ever so briefly, and he began to worry that he was somehow now in the line of fire. What was—

"The Joxter clearly has a type as well. It seems to be 'large and in charge', if I'm not mistaken." There was another round of laughter, and even The Joxter had to join; it wasn't as though it were untrue.

"Alright, you've got me. It's not just me, though," He laid a paw dramatically across his forehead. "It's the Mumrik in me, I just can't help it,"

"Are you saying Mumriks universally have a weakness for individuals who are bigger than they are and who aren't afraid to make use of that fact?"

He nodded sagely. "Only if the individuals are benevolent though."

Moominpappa grinned. "That seems a bit far-fetched.."

"More far-fetched than 'I tricked the most powerful fae in existence into giving me my memories for better than free'?"

"Okay, fair point, but still."

"I don't know.." Moomin spoke up with a devious grin, and an expression of alarm flashed across Snufkin's face; but it was too late. "Snufkin certainly seems to fit that description. Like father, like son, perhaps."

Said son had turned cherry red, pulling his hat over his eyes. "Betrayed by my own husband,"

Moomin pulled him in gently and slipped an arm around his waist. "Sorry, dear. You know I don't mind; I'm rather pleased you find me so desirable, in fact." He smiled warmly, and everyone present felt a soft warmth in their hearts at the sight of the two.

"Are you all done being sappy? I want to go look for treasure on the beach." Little My startled the gathered family out of their moment, and Snufkin laughed.

"Oh? Why treasure? If I recall, you used to prefer shells; sand dollars and the like." His grin turned devious. "Or is this really so you can search for coins to give to Comfrey?"

Little My turned as red as her hair. "So what if I am?! The doofus is all down on himself, some stupid idea about him being 'just a hoarder'," She scowled, crossing her arms. "Idiot. As if I care about how many or how few trinkets he keeps laying around."

Snufkin's grin had faded to a soft smile, and he extricated himself from the arms of his husband. "Well, you heard the lady. Brotherly duty calls." He gave Moomin a peck on the cheek, much to everyone's surprise, then set off with Little My.

Moomin watched fondly as they walked away side by side, Snufkin lifting his hat to allow Little My to scramble up on top of his head, peeking out from underneath her makeshift awning. "You've really got something special, don't you, Moomin?"

He sighed happily. "Yeah. I do."

 

* * *

 

"And that's the story of how your father and I got my memories back." Snufkin smiled over at his husband, who smiled right back.

Before promptly being tackled to the ground by an overly emotional Maple. "Oh Moominpappa that's so sweet!! You and Pappa love each other so much and it's so _beautifulll_!" Maple burst into tears, and Moomin rubbed their back gently as they wailed.

"Oh, Maple, sweetie. Of course we do; and we love you just as much." Moomin smiled bemusedly at his husband.

"Maplllle, come onnn, you're embarrassing us!!" Birch was staring at the ground with their arms crossed.

There was a yelp as Sequoia jabbed them in the side with an elbow, hissing under their breath. "Well maybe _you_ should get a little more in touch with _your_ emotions!"

Acacia grinned. "Yeah, maybe that girl in Woodsman's Refuge would finally let you take her to dinner,"

Snufkin turned to his second oldest child with a shit-eating grin. "Oh? Our little Birch has taken an interest in someone? Do tell,"

Birch swallowed. It seems their tendency to ask prying questions was coming back to haunt them.


End file.
